Foiled
by WIWJ
Summary: This story is AU from season 3.5, right before 'long way back' I will be using the album 'Foiled' from Blue October to help set the mood. I hope this will be something new-ish for me style wise. Enjoy
1. Congratulations

_After an extreme lack of writers motivation (when ever you see 'oneshots from me.. I'm struggling!) this story popped into my head. It's is AU from season 3.5, and starts in the middle of the story. I will be using the album 'Foiled' from __Blue October__ which got me through the __**worst**__ break up of my life. Not all songs fit perfectly, but the sentiment is there. Some lyrics will be at the beginning of the story and I will put them all at the end. I highly recommend listening to these songs or at least trying too. Especially 'Falling in the Ocean' 'What if we could' 'She's my ride home' and 'Hate me' since they are true Michael/Fiona songs. If anyone makes those little video's that I someday want to be able to make (when I grow up) please use one or two of those! _

**_This story is for Joseph.. where ever you may find him... always._**

_So here we go:_

_'Long way back' never happened  
>Fiona really left...<em>

…_..._

**_Congratulations_**

…_..._

_My mind it kind of goes fast  
>I try to slow it down for you<br>I think I'd love to take a drive  
>I want to give you something<br>I've been wanting to give to you for years  
>my hear<em>t

Ireland 2011

The man had caught the attention of every woman in the market. They were eying him, whispering at the new comer with unabashed curiosity.

He stood up a little straighter, reminding himself he had to do this. He had to see her. He had to make sure she was alright. That she had forgiven him. That she knew she wasn't second best.

"Can I help ya?" The man who owned the market finally asked, his eyebrow arching as he spoke his thick accent making something in his gut clench. "Ya look a little lost James Bond."

His eyes became slits. How could this man at a market in the middle of fucking no where Ireland-.

"What?"

"James Bond. It's a movie." The man looked at him like he was insane. "Shaken not stirred.. License to kill? Guy wears a fancy suit and struts around like he belongs in places he don't. Not much of a movie buff ah?"

"No.." The irony was almost too damn much for him to take. His day had been ironic enough.

When he had finally stumbled upon one of Fiona's 'acquaintances' who'd speak to him, she'd made a smug face and looked damn pleased to tell the stranger Fi's secrets.

"_She doesn't live around here anymore, and she's not Glenanne anymore either. Someone said she went soft and became a Culchie outside Kilkenny."_

It had taken him half the day to remember what the hell a 'culchie' was, and when he did he couldn't see Fiona becoming one.

"So.." The man's loud voice brought him out his thoughts again. "As I was sayin' are you lost?"

"No." He said softly. "I'm looking for a woman."

"What kinda woman you lookin' for?" Piped up one of the oglers from the fruit stand. He smiled, feeling the surprise heat of pink in his cheeks. It must have been the accent.

"I um.. an old friend from when I went to school in Dublin. I'm afraid I don't know her married name." He sighed heavily. "Her name is Fiona. She's from Belfast."

"That's the kind you're looking for then?" The woman balked. "_That's_ what suits your fancy? Mentellers?"

"Colleen enough." The market owner grumbled before turning back to look at Michael. "Fiona's house is up in the hills. Follow this road up and go left at the fork."

"Thank you." He whispered.

"But I'd be careful. She doesn't take too kindly to strangers."

Michael felt his lips twitch up.

"She never did." He breathed, before nodding at the man and starting towards the house.

"Ain't that something? Some Fine Thing shows up and he's hot for the Widow McBride!"

The woman's words reached him and he actually stumbled. His mind going in a million different directions. Was it possible Fiona actually met and married a man who was actually named McBride and actually from Kilkenny?

He wanted to say no, but an old man in a country market had just unknowingly identified him as a spy. So who knew. He kept walking.

He made his way up the hill, glancing up at the house on the left. Tactically sound position, widows shuttered from the inside. Very Fiona. He swallowed hard, looking around again (mainly for cover if she decided to open fire) before warily lifting his fist to knock on the door.

There was movement inside and he braced himself when the locks on the door started to slide back and it opened just enough, poking her head out. Her bright eyes widened when they met his, her lips parting slowly.

"Fi." It felt right on his lips, the familiar look flickered in her eyes.

"What are you-.?" She whispered.

"Can I come in?"

"Are you alright?" She asked carefully, looking him over for mortal wounds.

"Yeah." He breathed.

"You're sure?" She repeated, putting more of her body in the crack of the door, but refusing to open it further.

"Yes." He said firmly. "I'm fine."

"Okay then." She whispered before pulling her body from the frame and closing the big wooden thing with a thud.

Michael stood there for a few seconds with his eyebrows creased.

"Fi." He called softly.

The only answer was the the sound of turning locks.

…...

_and i can't change this  
>i can never take it back<br>but now i can't change your mind  
>(you left me)<br>and i can't make this  
>i can never take this back<br>but now i can't change your mind  
>can't change your mind<br>(you left me)_

…...

"Fiona I just want to talk to you." Michael sighed loudly from his spot on Fiona's front stoop, his back against the heavy locked door. "I came a really long way to talk to you."

Silence.

"It's getting cold, Fiona." He called as a matter of fact. "I'd forgotten how cold it can get here at night." He listened, pressing his head back and letting it roll to the side against the barrier between them. "I'd forgotten how cold anywhere can get at night."

He thought he heard her sigh and, not for the first time in the hour he'd been sitting there, he wondered if she was sitting with her back to the other side of the door.

"Fiona open the door." It was a plea.

He heard a shuffle behind him before the locks of the door slid and it cracked open. He could hear her stomp away. Carefully he pushed at it until he could see her standing in the doorway between two rooms, her arms wrapped firmly around her slim shoulders. He cautiously took a step in the door.

"What are you doing here Michael?" She sniffed, refusing to turn around.

"I just want to talk to you." He told her softly.

"You came all the way from God knows where to _talk_?" She swung around and he braced for impact.

"I came all the way from Miami.." He told her firmly. "To.. yes.. to-." She glared at him stubbornly with her glassy red rimmed eyes. She'd sat on the other side of the door and cried? He grunted, his fingers tensing and releasing. "I wanted to-."

"You wanted to what?" She demanded.

"I wanted to see you. I needed to just-." He winced, before dropping into the closest chair and smashing his hands against his face. This was not going as planned. "Damn it."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Her soft worry was closer than he'd realized. Michael lifted his face, peering up at her before nodding. He watched her slim fingers reach out and carefully brush his hair back from his temple. "Jesus, Michael your freezing." He smiled at her breathy exclamation.

"I told you." He repeated warmly, the left side of his face twisting up slightly.

"It healed nicely." She slid her thumb across his cheekbone over the ragged scar. The last time she'd seen it it had been purple and angry with thick stitches. He watched her carefully like she could disappear at any moment. Fiona's body seemed to exhale it's tensions, shuddering lightly before she reluctantly began to pull her touch from him.

"Fi." He lifted his hand slowly folding his fingers around her wrist. "Please."

"Why are you here Michael?"

"Some woman in Belfast said you got married." He breathed. "She said you moved to Kilkenny. Then the women in the market called you Widow McBride and now I don't know what's-."

"It seemed fitting." Fiona sniffed with a sad grin. "Don't you think?" Westen looked at her arm where his fingers wound around hers. No wedding ring, no diamonds, no baby's birthstone, none of the heart wrenching things he'd been imagining since leaving Belfast. "I came here to mourn the loss of my love. Might as well give myself a nice cover story. Right Michael?"

"You didn't loose me." He breathed softly, letting her go. "You left me."

She stood statue still her green eyes, sad and damp, on his.

"You left me first." She arched an eyebrow and a tear slipped down her cheek. "I just had the good graces to actually go away."

His jaw jerked to the side but he kept his eyes on hers. The last time she was this close was still blurry and achy in his confused head.

The only clear moment were three years ago, her in his loft, asking about her H&K. The sad look of finality on her face when he brought it to her the next day. The soft pop of her lips on his before she loaded the last of her things in the back of her rental and drove away from him.

"I miss you." His voice sounded far more desperate than he'd have liked. "I miss you Fiona."

Her mouth twitched as more tears fell.

"I miss you too, Michael." She took a deep breath and set her shoulders. "Did you come here to tell me you missed me?"

"No." He stood up slowly, before hesitantly putting his hands on her shoulders. "I came to ask you to come home."

…...

_**Congratulations**_

_is that seat taken  
>congratulations<br>would you like to take a walk with me  
>my mind it kind of goes fast<br>i try to slow it down for you  
>i think i'd love to take a drive<br>i want to give you something  
>i've been wanting to give to you for years<br>my heart  
>my heart, my pain won't cover up<br>you left me.. hu hu hu hu  
>my heart won't take this cover up<br>you left me.. hu hu hu hu  
>i came to see the light in my best friend<br>you seemed as happy as you'd ever been  
>my chance of being open was broken<br>and now you're mrs. him.  
>my words they don't come out right<br>but i'll try to say i'm happy for you  
>i think i'm going to take that drive<br>i want to give you something  
>i have wanted to give to you for years<br>my heart  
>my heart, my pain won't cover up<br>you left me.. hu hu hu hu  
>my heart<br>my heart won't take this cover up  
>you left me.. hu hu hu hu<br>and i can't change this  
>i can never take it back<br>but now i can't change your mind  
>(you left me)<br>and i can't this  
>i can never take this back<br>but now i can't change your mind  
>can't change your mind<br>(you left me)  
>can't change you mind<br>(you left me)  
>(you left me)<br>(you left me)  
>(you left me)<br>go away  
>make it go away<br>please._


	2. X amount of words

**A/N I'm a tiny bit worried I've taken him too out of character here, but I'm focusing on the times when he was at his most vulnerable.. especially when he was on his own and feeling abandoned (Like with Larry) or when he realized that there are worse things than being burned (on the boat w/ Victor)However.. I like toying with him on the edge like this. Let me know what you think. HONESTLY! Even if you don't like it.**

**...  
><strong>_**X-amount of words  
>...<strong>_  
><strong>2009<br>Miami  
><strong>_….. _

_i'm sick of shaking  
>never waking<br>from the hell i achieve  
>i never knew you till you left me<br>with the crying disease_

…_..._

It was two weeks after she'd left when his mother sold the house. He'd imagined it taking a long time, but it was over in a matter of days. She'd decided to visit friends in Fort Lauderdale before looking at condos. He hesitated to ask her where she'd be looking.

Sam had even seemed more distant. At first he'd been around a lot, bringing beer and yogurt by the loft. Michael figured Fiona or his mother or both of them had asked him to. To help _ease_ the burden of her departure. The idea pissed him off a little. The whole situation pissed him off.

The more he asked Sam for help with his new jobs, the less Sam said yes. He wasn't sure about the 'agent to the spies' either, even if he had been more subtle than Fiona had.

_Fiona._

He'd thrown himself into work and Strickler had plenty of work for him.

Then he'd meet Sam at Carlito's and fake easy going chit chat.

"Fi called." Sam told him absently one night, looking over Michael's shoulder before taking a long drink. "She wanted to know how you were."

"What'd you say?" He tried and failed to sound unconcerned.

"Lied my butt off and told her you were fine." He sighed.

"I am fine Sa-."

"Whatever." He pressed his lips together and the two of them sat in silence.

"Is she alright?" Michael asked reluctantly. Sam gave him a hard serious look, before faking a bright smile.

"Yeah sure. She's great." He snapped. They returned to silence. "Listen Mike, this thing with Strickler. I'm not sure I can help you with this anymore."

"I'm so close Sam." Westen moaned, cupping his palms over his face. "If I can just finish a few more jobs with him-."

"You get back in. I know." Sam finished. "You sure that's what's best?"

"Sam." He looked at him with barely contained disgust. "It's who I-."

"Who you are. Yeah.." Axe sighed in disappointment and took another long drink. "I'm here for you Buddy."

"Good because-."

"Just not for the next few weeks. I'm taking Veronica to the Keys." He avoided his friends gaze.

"Sam.."

"Fi's gone. Your mom's moving on. You're getting back in." Sam turned his eyes on Michael and held them for a few seconds. "I gotta start thinking about what I'm going to do now that our little-." He stopped, rolling his hand in a circle as if to explain the last three years. "Whatever.. has come to an end." He looked down at his beer. Michael swallowed before nodding in understanding.

"I get it Sam."

"It was fun while it lasted though, Brother." Sam sighed, tossing a uncharacteristically large wad of bills on the table before giving Michael a long look. "Take care of yourself, Mike."

He walked away slowly and Michael found himself unexpectedly wondering when _or if_ he'd see Sam Axe again.

…_...  
>another curing, reassuring<br>way to buckle the knees  
>so mistreated, i repeated<br>never blessing your sneeze  
>now deleted and defeated<br>i will stand on my own  
>yeah your memory that punches me<br>has broken the bone  
><em>…...

The club thudded below him, shaking the room in even rhythmic beats. Michael narrowed his stare onto the information Strickler had given him, his eyes clawing over it before he was satisfied.

He'd gotten another call from Diego. Things were looking good. He was so close to getting what he wanted.

A few more jobs. A few more weeks.

He'd have what he wanted.

_What he wanted._

His gaze drifted towards the manilla folder beside him on the bed, he laid his hand on top of it, sighing deeply before he opened it.

She stared up at him, grinning that devilish grin of hers. He slid that one to the side and studied the next. Them together, lips molded. He could still remember what she tasted like, the smell of her hair. He wondered if he'd forget. He moved to the next her arms crossed behind her head in front of the loft windows.

"_Let us take some pictures to commemorate this joyous occasion" _She'd teased, her eyes still glazed and sparkling from his confession and the words _Happy Now? _Still scribbled on his notepad.

Several his mother had taken, one with his palm resting against her cheek. He knew he'd never forget the soft pressure of her face in his hand. The way her eyes would melt. Her_ resolve_ would melt._ His knees would melt. _

He looked at her again before closing the file, shaking it off like he could expel her from his memory. He needed to update himself on current events. World affairs. He needed to be ready.

…...

_your brain is faulty wiring  
>the reason for tiring<br>keep treating the curse,  
>imagine the worst<br>systematic, sympathetic  
>quite pathetic, apologetic, paramedic<br>your heart is prosthetic  
>…...<em>

The first time he met Gilroy, Fiona's voice was loud persistent in his head. He sat across from the psychopath, trying to remember how long after their first parting her voice had sounded in his head like an unwanted commentator.

It was hard for him to focus with her memory yelling so loudly at him. Strickler glanced at him with that irritated pinched look on his face and he grunted rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth.

"Am I boring you Mr. Westen?" Gilroy asked wryly, his flirty grin making Michael's imaginary Fiona snort. 

_Careful Romeo.. he's a heart breaker.. _

"Of course not." He said sharply. "I'm just still waiting for the specifics of the job you want me to do. Not that all this foreplay isn't fun."

_Foreplay.. nice touch Michael.. _Fake Fiona giggled.

"I'm still getting to know you. Getting to know all about you.."

"Well... let me know when you've got me all figured out." He grinned, standing up and making his way out from under the tent, Strickler on his heals.

_Let **me** know when you've got him all figured out.. _

Michael exhaled.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" His 'agent' hissed.

"I'm tired of being left in the dark." Michael snapped."I'm not comfortable working jobs that I don't full understand."

"Michael this is all a means to an end." The weasel assured him.

_Yes.. an end.. _

Michael clenched his jaw.

"Listen. I know the last month has been an adjustment for you. You've dealt with a lot of losses. Betrayals even."

"Stop." Michael warned his eyes wide. "Don't go there."

"You should really move into the house I got for us. It's amazing." He nodded sharply, clapping his hands together. "No old memories. Old ghosts."

_How nice.. a fresh start._

"I've got someplace to be." Michael lied before stomping away.

"Not exactly how you described him." Gilroy muttered coming up beside Strickler.

"He's desperate. Lost everyone he though he could count on, all the good voices in his head." Tom turned slowly to his companion. "He's right where we need him to be."

…...

_you're solar, bipolar  
>panic disorder<br>seems harder and harder and harder  
>still you try to control it<br>…..._

_Really Michael, your cracking up. I think you miss me. _

He fixed his eyes on the ceiling, blinking as the hum of the speakers vibrated his body. She always loved that. She used to pull him to the floor during sex so she could feel the pulse of the music below. He could almost feel the ghosts of her hands clawing at his shoulders, moaning, gasping, pleading his name. _Harder. Faster. Deeper. More. Kiss me Michael. I want to taste you. _Her soft lips and probing tongue against his lips, his neck, his abs, his cock.

His body tensed, fingers and toes curling in frustration.

_Now I'm sure you miss me. You should lighten up Michael. You work too hard. _

She was everywhere here. She was at the counter eating yogurt. She was upstairs at his desk finishing cover id's. She was in the bathroom fixing her hair. She was at the workbench building a detonator. She was in his bed, sighing contently as he ran his fingers through her hair. She was everywhere.

He considered calling, telling her he was cracking up. That she needed to come back. But no amount of words was going to fix this, and he didn't think he'd recover if she said no.

_When_ she'd say no.

His breath was heavy and labored as his heart thudded with the beat from below and for the first time since Victor's death he considered grabbing the Sig from under his pillow and ending it now.

Not _here_ though. Not here where they'd call his mother in Fort Lauderdale to see what he'd done. Here, where Sam would have to come home from the Keys to clean up the mess he'd leave behind. Not here where they'd find him and have to call Ireland and tell her he couldn't live without her.

He swallowed, the salty angry tears burning the skin around his tired eyes. He reached for his phone, palming it in his hands before dialing. He sucked in a loud slow breath before puffing out his chest and plastering on that grin, the one she hated.

"Strickler. I've been thinking about your offer."

That night he left the loft, the pile of her pictures still sitting on the bed and blueberry yogurt still in the fridge.

He didn't think he'd be back.  
>…...<p>

_X-amount of words_

_relapse_  
><em>prevent trigger intent<em>  
><em>now drown<em>  
><em>high strung<em>  
><em>say x amount of words<em>

_you're solar, bipolar_  
><em>panic disorder<em>  
><em>seems harder and harder and harder<em>  
><em>still you try to control it<em>

_you mold, you mold_  
><em>yeah you shape to mold<em>  
><em>oh you're bold you're bold<em>  
><em>but your shape is bold<em>

_you're a symptom superficial_  
><em>to what they call knowing you<em>  
><em>minus the speed,<em>  
><em>could you imagine the phobia?<em>

_your brain is faulty wiring_  
><em>the reason for tiring<em>  
><em>keep treating the curse,<em>  
><em>imagine the worst<em>  
><em>systematic, sympathetic<em>  
><em>quite pathetic, apologetic, paramedic<em>  
><em>your heart is prosthetic<em>

_a plate of quite peculiar_  
><em>on a dish of my own<em>  
><em>a tablespoon of feather<em>  
><em>tickle me to the bone<em>  
><em>give me recipes for happy<em>  
><em>with the chemicals gone<em>  
><em>drinking freedom from a bottle<em>  
><em>to the tune of belong<em>

_i'm sick of shaking_  
><em>never waking<em>  
><em>from the hell i achieve<em>  
><em>i never knew you till you left me<em>  
><em>with the crying disease<em>

_another curing, reassuring_  
><em>way to buckle the knees<em>  
><em>so mistreated, i repeated<em>  
><em>never blessing your sneeze<em>

_now deleted and defeated_  
><em>i will stand on my own<em>  
><em>yeah your memory that punches me<em>  
><em>has broken the bone<em>

_give me recipes for sorry_  
><em>i'm admitting i'm wrong<em>  
><em>still your memory that punches me<em>  
><em>has broken the bone<em>


	3. Sound of pulling heaven down

…...

**A/N just because this story has a mind of it's own and i'm way too impatient to wait to post the chapters after I write them doesn't mean I don't expect you to review each one.. lol. It's like 2 ¾ yrs between when Fi originally leaves Miami and Michael shows up in Ireland.. hopefully all will be revealed..**

**Sound Of Pulling Heaven Down**

…**...  
>Islandmagee, Ireland<br>****Early 2010  
>…...<strong>

_I assemble all the sand that cover wedding beaches  
>To build a castle so your mom would have a place to stay<br>Behind the water slide and down the hill where heaven reaches  
>Land and time is left to float away (yeah)<br>So rest assured I have the key to every opening  
>To every wishing well that's deep enough to dream (dream)<br>I want to show you just how fascinating kissing is  
>When earth collides with all the space between (yeah)<br>I'm reaching farther than I ever have before  
>Leaving all who broke your heart upon the shore<br>I may be some sort of crazy  
><em>

Only crazy people go to the beach in January. Well unless you're in Miami, then you can go to the beach when ever you damn well please, but she wasn't in Miami any more.

Fiona slid down to sand, burrowing inside of her coat. Madelyn's call had shaken her. She hadn't expected it and she hadn't entirely welcomed it. Now she looked out across the black water like she could spot Miami from here. See him, over 4,000 miles away in the dark night. Check up on him herself.

"Ridiculous." She muttered to herself, swiping at the tears that had yet to fall from her eyes, sniffing loudly. He made her ridiculous, she thought, made her think about things she shouldn't.

His mother's words sounded in her head.

"_Even when he **does** call he isn't really there_." She'd practically yelled. "_He's gone emotionless Fiona_. **_Cold_**."

She knew that cover and she hated it. She hated who it made him. She hated that it made her think that maybe it wasn't a cover, maybe it was the real him.

She tried to remember the real him. She tried to remember his name on her lips, his palm against her cheek, fingers in her hair. She pressed her eyes shut tightly and thought of him wet from the rain, the way their foreheads had touched before his temple hand laid against the top of her head with a staggered relieved sigh seconds before he kissed her mouth.

That was him. That was who he was. She struggled to regain her stubborn composure. She'd left, she reminded herself, so she would not have to watch this. So why was she torturing herself with it now?

She thought back to her conversation with her brother Sean. How he'd demanded to know what she'd been up for the last three years and why she hadn't returned with her boyfriend.

"_People don't change just because you want them too._" She'd whispered.

People don't stay the same because you want them too either. Maybe if she'd stayed? If she'd remained his conscious? If she'd kept him safe from himself?

For someone so used to making selfish decisions, this one grated at her very core. She swallowed hard. Madelyn had a flair for the dramatic, she reminded herself. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she feared, maybe Fiona was letting her longing for him take over and develop an incorrect reality.

"Only one way to find out." She took a deep breath and pulled out her phone and dialed the only person who's opinion she'd trust on this. She hadn't talked to him in months, since the day she encouraged him to move on. Maddy had said he and Miss Reynolds had bought a house in the Florida Keys. She was proud of him for that. She knew first hand how hard that was, maybe more so for someone as loyal as him.

"Sam." She exhaled in a rush. "How would you feel about taking a little weekend visit to Miami?"

**…...**  
><em><strong>Miami<br>days later  
><strong>__**...**_

_I'm reaching farther than I ever have before  
>Leaving all who broke your heart upon the shore<br>I may be some sort of crazy  
>We may be some sort of crazy<br>But I swear on everything I have and more..._

He'd gone to the loft first. It had seemed the logical place to look. What he found there wasn't comforting.

The gate wasn't locked. Axe pulled out his nine mill, just in case. But instead of dodging bullets, he coughed at the stale dusty air that hit his nose when he opened the door.

"Mike?" He called feebly into the abandoned room. That's how it looked too, abandoned. It reminded him of an evacuated village, a towel still draped over the back of a chair, a pen still sitting beside a notepad, a glass still in the sink. "Mike are you here?"

He stopped pacing the empty room and sat on the unmade bed, reaching slowly to pick up a photograph beside him. He sighed deeply looking at the picture of his friends. Madelyn's birthday, he remembered, they'd been briefly happy then. Right after the whole thing with the fire and Carla. _Ahh Carla_.. she seemed almost sweet by comparison to Strickler.

There was only one sure way to know how long Mike had been gone from the loft. Sighing he made his way to the kitchenette, held his nose and swung the refrigerator open. He still gagged at the smell before grabbing one of the yogurts and reading the expiration date.

"Eight months. Wow." He grimaced. "That's disgusting Mikey." He put it back quickly, slamming the door shut before walking out onto the balcony to breath again. He picked up his phone.

"Hey Maddy? Do you know where Michael's living? I didn't realize he'd left the loft." He winced a little at her tone before sighing again. "Okay. I'll call him then, at least someone knows. Can I have Nate's number?" He winced again. "I'll call you when I know something."

He dialed Nate, explained himself and got the address.

"_He's pretty messed up, Man._" Nate warned before Sam said goodbye.

"Jesus Mikey. What kind of mess did you get yourself in this time?" He muttered, rubbing his face before starting back down to his rental car.

_So never look behind you, spooky people bring you down  
>The world is ending there's a party by the bay<br>I'll wear my suit and tie when I am  
>I am toasting to the way you put that smile upon my face (yeah)<br>_

He'd staked out and bugged Strickler's house a few hours before he caught a glimpes of his best friend. Michael slammed the door of the Charger and started up the to the front of the place in a hurry yanking it back the enterance and starting to yell.

"**How** many times do I have to tell you that I don't do jobs involving kids?" Axe winced, pulling the ear piece to his bug further from his head. "One more weeping mother and screaming five year old I swear I'm going to loose my fucking mind!"

"Look you said you didn't want to hurt a kid." The other man called from the second floor landing. "You didn't say that you never wanted to see one."

"Well now I am." Michael growled unbuttoning his suit button and dropping to the couch.

"Sure..." The agent/roommate grimaced sarcastically. "Because that's at all plausible." Sam cringed from behind his bino's when Michael pressed the butts of his hands to his eyes. "You should freshen up, have a yogurt. We have a big meeting this afternoon."

"No." Michael bit back quickly. "Not today."

"This is important Michael." He whined. "You know how hard it's been for me to get you big jobs since you failed with Gilroy."

"I didn't fail. I passed." He snorted.

"Yeah.. passed it right on to the CIA."

"Lot of good that did me." He grumbled.

"These things take time, Michael." He smiled smugly.

"Yeah. It's almost been a year."

Sam almost felt guilty at how tired Michael looked, how beaten down. He was glad that it was him, not Fiona or Madelyn, here watching this exchange.

"A year is nothing in the grand scheme of things." Strickler muttered as Michael got up and walked to the window. Sam watched him stare until he his eyebrows furrowed. He slowly ducked back behind the brush. There was no way Mike could have seen him that far away was there?

"I'm going for a walk." He announced, Sam muttered a curse looking from left to right. "Reschedule, I'll be ready for your play date tomorrow."

"Fine, do what ever you have to do."

Axe huffed, this wasn't really how he wanted it to go. He stood up when Westen started out of the house before making his decision and dropping one of the items from his bag in the spot next to the cell phone connected to the bug.

He didn't wait around to hear Michael call out to him a few minutes later as he approached the brush.

"I know you're out here Sam." Westen hissed before pushing back the overgrowth with the barrel of his Sig. He swore when the spot was empty, picking up the phone and listening to Tom push their meeting off until tomorrow inside the house. His mouth scrunched up with a grunt before something else caught his eye. He reached down and slowly lifted the picture towards him.

It had been months since he'd seen her anywhere but his dreams. Her green eyes sparkled from the glossy paper. Michael's mouth went slack into a frown before he slipped it inside his pocket along with the phone.

...  
><em>So rest assured I have the key to every opening<br>To every wishing well that's deep enough to dream (dream)  
><em>_..._

He wasn't surprised the next day when Michael approached him at Carlitos. That was why he was sitting there, right out in the open at their usual table with a fish taco on his plate and a mojito in his grasp.

"What's the matter Sam?" His voice was tense. "Miss Reynolds kick you out and you needed a little extra income?"

"I'm going to pretend not to take that personally, Mike."

Michael tossed the picture of Fiona onto the table.

"Then I'll pretend not to take _that_ personally."

"It got your attention didn't it?"

"So who's dirty work are you doing this time, Sam? CIA? Homeland security? One of your cop buddies put you up to this or just your good old pals at the FBI?"

"She's fine by the way. In case you're, you know, just too big to ask." Sam nodded at the picture.

"Leave her out of it." Westen growled. "I want to know who you're informing on me to these days."

Sam reached forward and tapped the photo again before lifting his eyes to look at Michael. He noticed the quick twitch of his eyes before his face hardened over again.

"Your mom called her. She was worried." Sam told him with remarkable gentleness. "She sent me here to check things out."

He started for the picture again but Michael snatched it back, slipping it inside his breast pocket. Sam tried not to smile.

"What do you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her she was right." He blinked, the steely expression cementing it's self onto his face, before he turned and started away from the table. "Tell her I'm glad she isn't here to see what I've become."

"Mike. It's not too late." Westen froze. "If you let us help you.."

"You can't help me anymore, Sam." He told him stiffly. "Stay away from my place, and out of my business. If I see you out there again I won't hesitate next time."

"Mike!" Sam yelled after him, but he was already sliding into the Charger.

_...  
>You make the sound of pulling heaven down<br>You brought the rain's romantic pour.  
><em>…

**Belfast, Ireland  
>later that day<br>…...**

"Sam." Fiona's voice became distant and thin. "He threatened you?"

"Fi.." She heard Axe swallow hard. "If it's any consolation I'm pretty sure he only said it to scare me off."

"That statement is utterly non reassuring." She snapped.

"Fi, I'm going to stay here for a while. Keep my eyes open, see if I can find out what's going on."

"Sam he threatened you!" She moaned.

"Yeah, well." He took a deep breath. "I could use some back up."

"I.." She hesitated, the faint ache in her chest suddenly overwhelmingly choking off any words.

"Fiona he's in bad shape."

"I can't Sam. I just can't." She panted out. "I'll call you in a few days."

Fiona hung up the phone in a rush, clapping her hand over her mouth, as if she could keep the sobs from escaping.

_...  
>You make the sound of pulling heaven down<br>You brought the rain's romantic pour  
>You make the sound<br>You make the sound  
>Of pulling heaven down<br>_I'm reaching farther than I ever have before  
>(Tired of wasting time)<br>Leaving all who broke your heart upon the shore  
>(tired of wasting time)<br>I may be some sort of crazy  
>We may be<br>some _sort of crazy  
>But I swear on everything I have and more<em>  
><em>(go go go go)<br>_  
>…<strong>...<br>Miami  
>that afternoon<br>…...**

"Michael." Tom opened his hand and gestured to the well dressed suit across the table."This is Vaughn."

The man lounged back with a smug look on his face. Michael had to fight back the urge to wipe it off for him with his fist.

_Shoot him Michael. He looks like he deserves it._

The voice was back the second her picture hit his eyes, but this time it was so much easier to ignore.

"Michael Westen." The man's grin made his body tense. "We finally meet."

"I hear you have work for me?" He pulled off his sunglasses and met the man's crinkled eyes.

"Indeed I do."

…...  
><em><strong>Sound of pulling heaven down<strong>_

_Somewhere, far away from here_  
><em>I saw stars, stars that I could reach (yeah)<em>  
><em>It was a midnight, a silent twilight<em>  
><em>Fell down, beyond the ocean beach (yeah)<em>

_I assemble all the sand that cover wedding beaches_  
><em>To build a castle so your mom would have a place to stay<em>  
><em>Behind the water slide and down the hill where heaven reaches<em>  
><em>Land and time is left to float away (yeah)<em>

_So rest assured I have the key to every opening_  
><em>To every wishing well that's deep enough to dream (dream)<em>  
><em>I want to show you just how fascinating kissing is<em>  
><em>When earth collides with all the space between (yeah)<em>

_I'm reaching farther than I ever have before_  
><em>Leaving all who broke your heart upon the shore<em>  
><em>I may be some sort of crazy<em>  
><em>We may be some sort of crazy<em>  
><em>But I swear on everything I have and more<em>

_So never look behind you, spooky people bring you down_  
><em>The world is ending there's a party by the bay<em>  
><em>I'll wear my suit and tie when I am<em>  
><em>I am toasting to the way you put that smile upon my face (yeah)<em>

_Fill up the air balloon and ride with me_  
><em>Yeah hell is jealous of the rain (rain)<em>  
><em>Make love like time and space Is ending<em>  
><em>While befriending fate's alluring way of putting us to shame<em>

_I'm reaching farther than I ever have before_  
><em>Leaving all who broke your heart upon the shore<em>  
><em>I may be some sort of crazy<em>  
><em>We may be some sort of crazy<em>  
><em>But I swear on everything I have and more<em>

_You make the sound of pulling heaven down_  
><em>You brought the rain's romantic pour<em>  
><em>You make the sound<em>  
><em>You make the sound<em>  
><em>Of pulling heaven down<em>

_I'm reaching farther than I ever have before_  
><em>(Tired of wasting time)<em>  
><em>Leaving all who broke your heart upon the shore<em>  
><em>(tired of wasting time)<em>  
><em>I may be some sort of crazy<em>  
><em>We may be some sort of crazy<em>  
><em>But I swear on everything I have and more<em>  
><em>(go go go go)<em>

_I'm reaching farther than I ever have before_  
><em>(Tired of wasting time)<em>  
><em>Leaving all who broke your heart upon the shore<em>  
><em>(Tired of wasting time)<em>  
><em>I may be some sort of crazy<em>  
><em>We may be some sort of crazy<em>  
><em>But I swear on everything I have and more<em>  
><em>(go go go go)<em>


	4. Hate me

**...  
><strong>_**Hate me  
><strong>__**...  
>Miami<br>late May 2010  
>…..<strong>__  
>and with a sad heart i say bye to you and wave<br>kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that i had made  
>and like a baby boy i never was a man<br>until i saw your blue eyes cry and i held your face in my hand  
>and then i fell down yelling 'make it go away!'<br>just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be  
>and then she whispered 'how can you do this to me?'<br>hate me today  
>hate me tomorrow<br>hate me for all the things i didn't do for you_

…

He woke up with a yell, his sore body lurching up from the bed.

She was drowning. She was drowning and he couldn't save her. Victor was there, his bloody body telling him 'I told you so' with one sorrowful look before walking away with his blood stained family.

Simon. This was about Simon. The meeting with the psychopath that he'd done for Vaughn had left him scrambled. _Berlin 2007_. What the hell was Berlin 2007? _Air triggered.. bring supplies_..

_Brothers._ The man had repeated before breaking from his shackles. He couldn't think. He couldn't think anymore with her waterlogged body floating behind his eyes.

Cemetery. He had to get to the cemetery.

….

_in a sick way i want to thank you for holding my head up late at night  
>while i was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight<em>

…_._

Sam moaned when the device next his pillow started to alarm, rolling onto his back he picked it up and looked at it with a curse.

"Where in the hell are you going at-?" He looked at his watch. "_Three forty two in the morning_, Mike?" He groaned pulling himself out of bed and into his pants before looking towards the steps. "Probably someplace where I'm going to need my boots, and my Winchester." He mumbled. "Damn it." He text Madelyn the way he promised her he would before starting out after Michael.

He was surprised when he pulled up to the cemetery. He was even more surprised that anything that Michael Westen did could still surprise him. He sent Maddy another message. She surprised him again with a response.

_Now he's disturbing the dead in the middle of the night instead of just us? Well that's the next logical step I guess. Watch your back Sam._

He watched Michael commit a particularly unethical illegal act from a far, hoping that he wouldn't come back out of the hole with someone's hundred year old corpse.

He couldn't quiet see what Mike retrieved, but he was fairly certain it wasn't skeletal remains. He followed him by the tracker, never getting too close. Stopping a block east of him when he had suddenly pulled over.

Sam fought through the empty time on edge. Had Michael seen him? Had he met someone with his otherworldly package? This was the trouble with trying to out 'Michael Westen' _Michael Westen. _You ended up a block away wondering if your mentally unstable best friend needed you to rush to his aide. He should have bugged the car. He wanted to bug the car, but again, this was Michael.. a very paranoid Michael with questionable mental faculties. He could probably done it, but getting that up close and personal with the Charger to hide a tracker had been hairy enough. A Westen proof bug would have taken twice as long.

The GPS sounded again and he started to drive. He'd gotten used to being his Buddy's distant shadow. He was actually becoming quite resourceful. He'd climbed a tree, squeezed into a cherry pickers bucket, hung out in the trunk of a rental car and basically re-qualified for the Navy Seal non-oxygen underwater challenge.

Michael stopped again at a gas station up the street before Sam saw him lurch out of the car and vomit into the bushes. He stood there hunched over for a minute, his hands on his thighs. Climbing out of his car, Sam struggled to keep himself in the dark. _  
><em>

Michael moaned before slamming his fists into a near by cement wall before yelling in pain and frustration and stumbling off into the night. Axe watched him go, waiting for a few minutes before rushing towards the car. He stuck a gloved hand into the trove. There was a year book, photos of things that would keep him up tonight, then there was a disregarded tape recorder with a tape case. He rewound and press play.

Wincing when he realized what he was listening too.

…

_there's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain  
>an ounce of peace is all i want for you. will you never call again?<br>and will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face?  
>and will you never try to reach me?<br>it is i that wanted space_

**...  
>Belfast Ireland<br>moments later****  
>...<strong>

"Fi we got a big problem." She knew she shouldn't have answered the phone. She'd already listened to Madelyn's graveyard stories and she just didn't have anything left for Sam.

"What now Sam did he knock a nun over on his way to kill a preist?" She huffed.

"His new boss man? Vaughn? The Chesire Cat in Miami Vice attire? He's the guy."

"What guy?"She growled.

"_The_ guy." Sam yelped. "Mike found a tape. This Simon guy.. the one I told you about? Lead him to a tape. It's a tape of Vaughn telling Simon how he'd just burned Michael."

"Oh my God." She let her eyes slip closed.

"Mike just ran off. Left the Charger and all the crap in the middle of the street and hasn't come back. I think he's going to kill him."

"If he doesn't get killed first!" She cursed. "Damn it!"

"I need you here Fiona."

"I'm coming." She announced. Tossing her passport and wallet on top of her pile. "I'll be there tonight."

"I'll stay with him." Sam told her supportive. "Call me when you're at the loft."

…...

_hate me in ways  
>yeah ways hard to swallow<br>hate me so you can finally see what's good for you  
>…...<em>

Strickler was up when he returned to the house. He tried to gather himself, tried to unscramble his head. He needed to think. He needed to figure out where to go next.

"Hey. Where the hell were you?" He needed to think.. _faster _aparently.

"I was working on something. Then the damn Charger quit on me. I spent about two hours working on _that_. Another two walking home. I think the Damn things on it's last leg."

Tom looked at him for a few blinks before looking away.

"You get it towed?"

"Not yet." He leaned into the fridge clenching his teeth and grabbing a yogurt. He forced a sigh. "I guess I'll do that now."

"Take a shower and I'll take you over there." Strickler offered.

"Nah I want to sleep for a while first." Michael lied.

"I'm gonna meet with one of Vaughn's guys about getting that file you wanted."

"Where did you get him anyway?" Michael asked, tilting his head at his 'agent'.

"Vaughn's guy?"

"Vaughn."

"What do you mean where?"

"I mean did you work with him in the past or.." Michael shrugged. "I just realized I have no idea."

"No." Tom raised his eyebrows. "He came to us actually. Heard about your talents. Apparently he was some kind of enemy of Gilroy."

Michael nodded.

"Feel better now?" He asked with the smirk Westen had grown accustom to.

"I'll feel better when I clean up last nights adventure." He told him with criptic honesty.

"Okay then. Good luck." He grabbed his brief case and headed out the door. Michael put the blue tooth on his ear and turned it on.

Sam had been so helpful with the bug he planted. By the time he'd found it in the remote control he'd easily planted it in Strickler's watch while he was in the shower. He hadn't really used it yet. Not because he particularly trusted his 'dear friend' Tom, but because he hadn't had much of a reason not to. Now he did.

"We have a problem." His 'partner' announced. "I think Michael's getting outside influences again. I don't know. The girl friend maybe. I found a picture of her in a suit jacket. And I like you said, Axe is still in town."

Sam was still in town? _Sam was still in town!_ Michael took a slow deep breath.

"I don't know I'll look into it, but I'd be against anything that wasn't discrete. If he knew we'd harmed them, I'm not sure we'd get him back. It's one thing to isolate him from them, it's another to kill them all off. I said I'd look into it."

Strickler cursed before making another call.

"Hi yes. My roommate really tied one on last night, luckily he took a cab home but this morning he has no idea where is car is. I know right? Anybody call in a black '73 Charger parked where it shouldn't be? Not yet huh. Well can I leave my contact information inca-."

Michael pressed the blue tooth off and hurried out the door. He didn't know where it was yet. He had time to get to the Charger and get rid of Simon's evidence. He scrambled from the house, already wondering where in the hell he could put the damn tomb. He racked his brain for old haunts. Places he would have left things before. _Before_..

Before he drove everyone away.

He sped up when he saw the Charger, slamming into it at full speed before yanking it open, and finding it empty.

Well, not competently empty. Sitting in the place of Simon's treasure chest is a note. He reaches out, touching it gently before drawing his fingers over his own hand writing.

_Happy now?_

_..._

_the one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing i won't touch again  
>in a sick way i want to thank you for holding my head up late at night<em>

...  
><strong>Miami<br>****later that night**.  
>….<p>

Sam played the tape for her while she sifted through the box, trying to learn as much as she could. She coughed back her anger before looking at Sam.

"And who is Simon again?" She asked, leaning back into the tattered chair.

"Okay, here's what I know. Or what I think I know." Sam sighed, handing her a yogurt before slipping onto the bed. "Strickler set Mike up with this guy Gilroy who was paid to spring Simon from some secret prison. Mike spent some time courting him playing cat and mouse and realizes this guy is bad news. So he calls the CIA guy. Diego.. remember him?"

"Airport guy." She squinted, it had been a long year.

"Right exactly." Sam snapped, pointing his finger at her. "And tells him all about Gilroy trying to hire him to go after some flight data. So the Company picks up Gilroy and bullet dodged. But then apparently this guy, Vaughn gets wind that Secret Simon nearly escaped and decides to 'meet' the man who stopped him. Only now.." He pointed at the tape. "We find out he's apparently already been introduced."

"And Michael's been working with this guy?" She made a face.

" 'Fraid so." Sam looked at the tape before shaking his head. "He was not in a good place after finding that out."

"So.. he knows now. And he knows that you helped him get rid of the stuff?"

"Or he knows I stole the stuff. It depends on how he's thinking." Sam pointed his beer at her this time and she shook her head. "He's messed up Fi."

"What did you leave?" She asked softly. "Another picture?"

"No. A note I found in a tablet. It said 'happy now' I was assuming it was something between the two of you?" She looked up quickly, her heart racing.

"You could say that." She breathed.

"He'll recognize it?" She nodded wordlessly, thinking of that night and the promise it had held. "Good." He sighed loudly. "That's good."

"So we've recruited ourselves on to Michael's team, but we're not entirely clear if all the team Captian is on the same side we are?" She said finally.

"Pretty much." Axe raised his eyebrows and downed his beer.

Fiona dropped the things back in the box and growled.

"Come on Michael." She grumbled. "Tell us what to do now."

…

_i have to block out thoughts of you so i don't lose my head  
>they crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed<br>dropping little reels of tape to remind me that i'm alone  
>playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home<em>

**...  
><strong>**Miami  
><strong>**_late that night  
>…..<em>**

She invaded his thoughts. If Vaughn got to Fiona. If Vaughn _hurt_ Fiona.

He tried to remind himself that she was thousands of miles away from there, with an ocean in between. She'd left too. Left knowing the risk to him being out there alone. Why would she come now?

He couldn't entertain the reason why she'd come now. He just couldn't.

_Happy now? _

He'd racked his brain for meaning, combing through his memories for what she could have meant by that. Maybe it was a taunt. A very Fiona like statement.

_Fine mess you've gotten yourself into you Dolt, Happy now? _

Or even worse.

_I've left my life behind to come back to save your ass again. Happy now?_

It might be a trick. I might be Vaughn. It might be Tom. He looked towards the door way. They could have easily gotten into the loft. They could have easily..

But they wouldn't have known the meaning behind those words. They couldn't have known.

He closed his eyes and thought of the soft accepting look in her eyes. The way she'd tried and maybe succeeded in understanding why he'd had to leave her all those years ago. Maybe in the same way he understood it when she had done the same.

He wanted a better life for her. He wanted what she wanted for herself.

And at some point during the night, he'd realized that what she wanted for herself had been him.

...

**Hate me**

_I have to block out thoughts of you so i don't lose my head  
>they crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed<br>dropping little reels of tape to remind me that i'm alone  
>playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home<em>

_there's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain  
>an ounce of peace is all i want for you. will you never call again?<br>and will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face?  
>and will you never try to reach me?<br>it is i that wanted space_

hate me today  
>hate me tomorrow<br>hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

i'm sober now for 3 whole months it's one accomplishment that you helped me with  
>the one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing i won't touch again<br>in a sick way i want to thank you for holding my head up late at night  
>while i was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight<br>you never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate  
>you made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take<br>so i?ll drive so fucking far away that i never cross your mind  
>and do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind<p>

hate me today  
>hate me tomorrow<br>hate me for all the things i didn't do for you

hate me in ways  
>yeah ways hard to swallow<br>hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

and with a sad heart i say bye to you and wave  
>kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that i had made<br>and like a baby boy i never was a man  
>until i saw your blue eyes crying and i held your face in my hand<br>and then i fell down yelling 'make it go away!'  
>just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be<br>and then she whispered 'how can you do this to me?'

hate me today  
>hate me tomorrow<br>hate me for all the things i didn't do for you

hate me in ways  
>yeah ways hard to swallow<br>hate me so you can finally see what's good for you


	5. You make me smile

**A/N Frustrating day. Lost my mojo. Should not have slept last night. LOL. Hopefully my brain will return tomorrow!**

…**...**

**You make me smile  
>…...<strong>

**Miami  
>June 2010<br>…...**

_and could you be the one that's not afraid_  
><em>to look me in the eyes<em>  
><em>i swear i would collapse<em>  
><em>if i would tell how i think you fell<em>  
><em>from the sky<em>

…_..._

He was distracted, looking along the edge of the path outside the Victor for them while keeping an eye out for the people he figured Vaughn and Strickler had watching him. His Sig burned in his waistband, aching to be pulled. He couldn't be sure that they got the message. He couldn't be sure they were even really here.

He'd paid a clerk at the copy store fifty dollars extra by phone to make and put the fliers up around the loft. He could only pray she had seen it and know what it was.

**_'Tom Key and the lost souls' Live at the beach! June fourth at four pm featuring 'Cautious When Tracked' _**

He wasn't paying attention to the woman coming towards him until she'd run into him, spilling arm fulls of beach supplies.

He did a double take a the black curly ponytail that hung from her baseball cap and the slightly bulky build. Her green eyes flashed up to him.

"I'm so clumsy!" She said loudly in a southern accent. "I'm sorry."

"No. It's alright." He said quickly loosing himself in her worried gaze as she collected her things. "Let me help."

"Two guys, about a hundred feet behind you." Fiona whispered, her face down. "Sam spotted them."

"This isn't safe for you."

"When has that mattered?" She hummed. "The fliers were good. We'll do that and what we did in Germany." She looked up at him again, he held her eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He exhaled, reaching out one of her items to her. His hand brushed hers and he pulled back like he'd been shocked. "They suspect that I've had contact with one of you. Or both."

"We figured." She tried to meet her eyes again. "We're working the angle who hired Gilroy."

"The enemy of my enemy.." He mumbled reaching behind him.

"Sam has a tracker in the air condition vent of the Charger. We've been monitoring Strickler with your bug when you can't. Sam thinks you should dig a little deeper with him, see what he really knows about Vaughn. Even if he doesn't tell you he might reveal something to someone while we're listening." Michael nodded. "He thinks you should wire yourself so we can keep a line open." She reached for him again, overlapping there hands to grab a bottled water. "Be careful. _Calculated_. You don't have to do this alone."

He looked at their hands until she slowly let go, trying to gauge his reaction.

"I can't do this alone." He told her quickly, before flashing a fake grin and handing her her a bottle of sun screen. "I wish I could."

She watched him walk away before hurrying back to her rental. She drove back to the motel to meet Sam. She started peeling off the heavy layers beneath her oversized moo-moo the second she walked in the door.

"Well?"

"He's okay for now." She dismissed him, before walking into the bathroom and trying to come to terms with seeing Michael for the first time in over a year.

…...

_there's some kind of light at the end  
>stoned, forgetful, and then<br>i'm drinking what used to be sin  
>and touching the edge of her skin <em>

…_._

His senses were still on fire when he made his way back to the house. He made small talk with Strickler before closing himself in his room.

For the first time he considered what the end of this would look like, and briefly flirted with the idea that it could be an end with her.

The thought made his heart beat even faster. He could almost swear he could still feel the numb burning sensation where they'd touched.

They wanted him to pressure Tom-no, _Strickler_. He had to stop thinking about him as a partner and start treating him as a 'less than loyal asset'. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He wasn't sure how he felt about any of this. His reality had shifted so quickly he couldn't quite get a hold on it. All he knew was that Sam was still here and Fiona had come back. And that meant something to him.

…...

_my words, they pour_  
><em>like children to the playground<em>  
><em>children to the playground<em>  
><em>you make me smile<em>

…...

"This isn't a public hanger lady." The man muttered, continuing to rustle through the boxes.

"Diego?" Fiona let her tongue relax into a Spanish accent. He stood and turned slowly towards her.

"Who?" He blinked she smiled. Spies, they were all the same.

"You're going to play that game?" She purred, looking around at the other men in the room. "You answered to it last night when I was screaming it."

A slow look of dawning came to his face when he realized who she was. He'd spent months looking at Michael's files, and to say her name had come up a few times was a grievous understatement.

"I didn't hear you, mi armor. Here to surprise me for lunch?" He smiled at her and she trialed her hand up his arm, nodding slightly. He looked over his shoulder. "I'll be back." He hurried her out of the hanger."Miss Glenanne, I'm not sure it's safe for you to be here."

"Everyone is so concerned with my safety." She moaned. "I'm going to develop a complex. We need your help."

"I can't help you." He shook his head.

"Then who can?" She shook her head. "Michael saved someones ass by handing over Gilroy and keeping Simon under lock and key."

"He threw away any chance at help when he aligned himself with Strickler." Diego hissed.

"But Strickler was the one who got the review of his case in the first place!" She protested. His eyes flitted over her in disbelief.

"What?"

"Apparently, Michael isn't the only one aligned with Strickler." Fiona whispered. Diego put his hands on his hips and pondered that for a few minutes. "Help us. We're close to finding out who these people are and what their agenda is!" Diego made a face before trying not to shake his head. "Michael's always telling me it's not about him and I. It's about the country, about duty and patriotism. Help him prove that to me."

"I'm going to have to talk to to someone. There is a guy working on this we might be able to-."

"I need a name." She shook her head. "We're in no place to trust anyone that just walks up to us."

"He's a counter intelligence agent here in Miami. He's the one who contacted me about Strickler." Diego told her. "His name is Jesse Porter, he's a tall, 30 something, light skinned, African American."

"I'll be waiting to hear from him." She said softly. "You should watch yourself. We're radioactive right now. You might want to lay low."

Diego nodded before backing away from her slowly.

…...

_once so hard to speak  
>now so easy to play around<br>catch your eye you know  
>…...<em>

The second time he saw her she was pushing stroller with one of those infant seats, the shades drawn up around it to keep out prying eyes.

This time her hair was short and red and he momentarily worried she'd cut it off and that he couldn't run his fingers down it in long strokes that end at the curve of her spine.

Her lips twitched as she walked up to him with a map and a think New York accent. He leaned in.

"Lost my tail about an hour ago." He told her proudly before pointing and loudly offering to show her the way. She nodded with a smile, watching him study her. "Something you want to tell me?" He raised his eyebrows before looking down at the stroller with a wry grin.

"Congratulations Michael! You are the proud father of a radio transmitter!" She looked over her shoulder before carefully pushing the shade back. He looked in adoringly at the doll she had in it, reaching out and collecting the bug from where it was taped on it's chest in his fist. "Tell Sam hello."

"Hello Sam." He cooed towards his new possession before putting it in his pocket. "You think we can walk for a while?"

She glanced at him again.

"You said you lost your tail." She nodded watching him check out the large tattoo on the back of her neck. "What?"

"I'm trying to determine what's you and what's your cover." He sighed, laying his hands on the stroller handle and taking over the pushing.

He heard the soft huff of breath as her chest shook a little. He understood. 'What could have been' had flashed through his mind too.

"Let me tell you about my meeting with Diego, then maybe I'll give away my beauty secrets." She decided.

"Diego?" He stopped walking. "How did you find Diego?"

"The same way you did. I walked into his airport hanger office." She shook her head.

"Tom said-." He stopped, his eyes shutting. "Strickler told me Diego was reassigned a few months ago."

"I just saw him yesterday Michael." She sighed, before looking down at her hip and peeling back her cell phone. "Sam just spotted your tail."

"Fi." He shook his head at her slowly.

"Soon." She held up her map, exclaiming loudly thank you and how that she thought she had it now before pushing her stroller quickly away.

…_..._

_my words, they pour  
>like children to the playground<br>children to the playground  
>you make me smil<em>e

…_..._

"We need to get him out of there Sam!" Fiona shouted. "We need to get him back here. With us. Away from Strickler. And all his lies."

"Shh!" Axe held his hand up to her and pressed the headphones closer to his ear. "That a boy Mikey!"

"What?" She yelped, Sam swatted her away. "Sam!"

"Get Madelyn on the phone. Tell her she needs to call him with travel arrangements for his visit." Fiona's face broke into a smile.

"They'll check to see if he's there." Fiona bit her lip.

"I'll call Nate and tell him he's going to visit his mother." Sam shrugged as Fiona started dialing her phone. "We'll have him back here by early next week."

…...

_well how do you say_  
><em>i was hypnotized<em>  
><em>hypnotized<em>

…...

It was just after two am when the door opened and Michael slid inside pulling off his hood and looking around.

"Guys?" He asked cautiously.

"Michael." Fiona's voice called softly. He looked up at her, her rifle loosely on her shoulder as a precaution. "You're sure you lost them?"

"Yeah." He continued to stare at him. "I watched them follow Nate and the Charger back onto the interstate."

She nodded putting down the weapon and starting slowly down the steps before stopping in front of him.

"Hi." She breathed. His chest fell unevenly as he reached out and let his hand trial down a tendril of hair.

"Hi." She watched him swallow hard before she cautiously reached out and wrapped her arms around him, pulling his body tightly to hers. He sighed, letting the weight slowly drop against her small frame.

"Welcome home, Michael."

…...

**You make me smile**

_some kind of light_  
><em>at the end<em>  
><em>i'm touching<em>  
><em>the edge of her skin<em>

_once so hard to speak_  
><em>now so easy to play around<em>  
><em>catching your eye you know<em>  
><em>that I that slapped you in your face<em>  
><em>and called you a puppy<em>  
><em>well how do you say<em>  
><em>i was hypnotized<em>  
><em>hypnotized<em>

_my words, they pour_  
><em>like children to the playground<em>  
><em>children to the playground<em>  
><em>you make me smile<em>

_there's some kind of light at the end_  
><em>stoned, forgetful, and then<em>  
><em>i'm drinking what used to be sin<em>  
><em>and touching the edge of her skin<em>

_and could you be the one that's not afraid_  
><em>to look me in the eyes<em>  
><em>i swear i would collapse<em>  
><em>if i would tell how i think you fell<em>  
><em>from the sky<em>

_yeah my words, they pour_  
><em>like children to the playground<em>  
><em>children to the playground<em>  
><em>you make me smile<em>

_there's some kind of light at the end_  
><em>stoned, forgetful, and then<em>  
><em>i'm drinking what used to be sin<em>  
><em>and touching the edge of her skin<em>

_there's some kind of light at the end_  
><em>stoned, forgetful, and then<em>  
><em>i'm drinking what used to be sin<em>  
><em>and touching the edge of her skin<em>

_it's the feeling i get_  
><em>my palms with sweat<em>  
><em>like some kind of daydream<em>  
><em>i'll never forget<em>  
><em>i'm stuck in this spin<em>  
><em>why does it begin<em>  
><em>by touching the edge of her skin<em>

_there's some kind of light at the end_  
><em>stoned, forgetful, and then<em>  
><em>i'm drinking what used to be sin<em>  
><em>and touching the edge of her skin<em>

_there's some kind of light at the end_  
><em>stoned, forgetful, and then<em>  
><em>i'm drinking what used to be sin<em>  
><em>and touching the edge of her skin<em>


	6. Everlasting Friend

**A/N This is my favorite song yet and the most M/F.. so far.. Thank you Sam marathon for reminding me of early Michael and how disconnected and selfish he was. It made previous chapters feel less OCC for me. (Its actually why my little brother stopped watching. He said Michael was a jerk. I'm trying to lure him back in) Ps.. is that preview not smoking hot? Can I say I am kind of disappointed that he apparently got back in? That was not the camp I'm in.. but if you've ever read my stories.. you probably guessed that. **

**Oh! pps.. I realized this weekend that I have time line issues too. Veronica and Sam had already broken up, Larry had already used the couch as a tomb.. if this story hadn't pretty much demanded to be started I would have caught them, its a pet peeve.. so forgive my uncharacteristic (hopefully?) time line detail sloppiness. :)**

…...  
><strong>Everlasting Friend<strong>

_a sudden slip between_  
><em>my pathetic sedatives<em>  
><em>a real-life script of how<em>  
><em>mistakes became our medicine, <em>  
>…<p>

She watched him from the bed as Sam went over what they had one more time. He closed his eyes, rubbing between them as if he could turn off his brain.

"Okay." Sam sighed, looking back at Fiona. "I'm going to go back to the hotel before Veronica puts the chains on the door."

He patted her arm when he walked by. Michael was still braced against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up.

"I trust you got this if the bad guys realize they've been had?" He gave her a greatly exaggerated paternal stare and she swat at him before shutting the door.

"Who drags their girlfriend from a house in the Key's to a Miami hotel to help out some wash up who threatened his life?" Westen sighed.

"Your best friend. And you're not a wash up." Fiona told him watching him grimace. "Headache?"

"What?" He asked softly his eyes widening in a way she could only describ as innocence. She loved that look, her lips twitched up.

"You keep doing this thing with your face." She let her eyebrows rise. "I _asked_ if you had a headache."

"No." He shook his head and looked back at the table top.

"Are you sure? You look like something hurts." She struggled to keep the mild disinterest in her voice.

"I'm wincing at my own stupidity." He exhaled loudly. "All of this.."

"How 'bout we worry about getting you out of this mess instead of how you got in?" She offered, picking up the empty dishes and setting them in the sink.

"Kay." He sighed.

"You should get some sleep. You've been burning at both ends and in the middle lately." He glanced up at her curiously and she tapped her wrist and pointed at his. _The watch. The bug._ He nodded before glancing around the room.

"I'll.." He sniffed, turning his head to look at anything but her. "I'll take the couch upstairs, you can have the bed."

She fought back the vacant feeling of dread that washed through her and shook her head without missing a beat.

"No. You should take the bed." She said easily. "I'll take the couch, it's fine." He watched her for a moment as she turned on the water and started washing the dishes.

"Fi.." She blinked at the softness of his voice, swallowing hard before turning back to him with a soft even expression.

"Humm?" She watched him weigh his words, deciding what it was time for. Fiona kept her face neutral.

"Nite Fi." He whispered, leaning forward and kissing her cheek.

"Nite Michael." She murmured, returning her attention to the dishes. She looked at the wall, something inside of her wondered if he'd ever come all the way back from this. And if they would ever be them again.

….

_but delay the mournful words  
>of complicated overcast<br>please take the message  
>that you taught me how to live at last<em>

….

She hadn't fallen asleep yet when she heard him stir. She had still been staring at the ceiling contemplating their futures.

So when he suddenly sat up her body had jolted as if he'd yelled. She didn't move when he stood and glanced up at the loft, to make sure she hadn't woken. She waited until he'd made his way out onto the balcony before she sat up and slowly crept down the steps.

"Michael?"

"I was trying not to wake you." He told her leaning against the railing.

"I wasn't asleep." Fiona moved closer, stopping when she saw his posture stiffen.

"I'm okay." He shook his head.

"No your not." She countered calmly. "You're not okay."

"Leave it alone Fiona." He begged.

He rocked forward a little before turning around and looking at her for the first time, standing there in one of his button down shirts with her hair hanging in her face.

She bit her lip, letting her eyes sweep over him before locking with his.

"Do you really want me to?" She asked, moving forward just a little, testing his resolve. His eyebrows

creased and she had her answer. "Come on. Come lay back down."

"I just need a minute." He shook his head. "Go back up. I'm f-." He stopped swallowing the words he'd already said and she'd already rejected, sagging back against the rail.

"Couch isn't very comfortable." She lied.

"You can have the bed." He told her quickly, avoiding her eyes.

"Michael.." She sighed rolling her eyes at the ceiling. "We both know you'd sleep better.."

"I don't think it's a good idea." He told her quickly.

"I think I can control myself for-!"

"I don't think_ I _can." He interrupted, his voice low and serious. Her mouth slipped open when he looked at her. He growled pushing off the railing and moving past her into the loft. She turned slowly watching him sit on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands roughly over his face.

"I can't think, Fi. I keep trying to see the next move but I can't. I keep trying to figure out where I lost my perspective. Where I made the choice that made all of this come unraveled."

She moved closer and he dropped back against the mattress his arms flinging behind his head as it shook quickly from side to side.

"How I managed end up working dirty jobs for the people that burned me? I ran off everyone who ever cared about me.."

"Oh Michael." She whispered sitting beside him. She wanted to tell him it would be alright, that it could all be undone, but even she wasn't sure.

"I keep thinking about something my mom said, back when Paxton was our biggest problem.."

"Paxton." Fiona almost scoffed.

"She said.. that when she thought about my.. dark side or what ever.. she knew I would give in.. She said I needed to focus on something good." He gave a quick ironic laugh before sniffing. "I chased away everything good.."

"You tried.. but we're not that easy to run off." She turned her body towards him, laying her palms against his sides.

"Fiona.." He turned his face away from her.

"Your mother," She slid her hands under his shirt, stroking up and down his obliques. "Is a very smart woman, Michael. You need to focus on something good."

"Fiona I can't make you any promises-." He stilled her hands, shaking his head slowly back and forth.

"I'm not asking for any Michael, not tonight." She soothed. "We can sort the future out as we go." His hands gripped tightly around hers, He watched her lower her lips to his throat. He hissed as she sucked his skin into her mouth before pressing a kiss there. "Don't worry about what happened yesterday or what's going to happen tomorrow." She pushed herself up and locked her eyes with his. "Just focus on me." He reached out slowly, his hand slightly shaking it's way to her cheek. She leaned into it and he could feel her tears slip over the his fingers. "Focus on us."

He took a quick breath before pulling her lips down to his.

…_..._

_but i said my confidence  
>it gets stronger when you're next to me<br>but we wave respect goodbye  
>in quest for what we long to be, <em>

…_.._

Fiona watched Michael carefully on the way into the meeting. She knew he was trying to focus, to center himself.

"This guys counter intelligence. It's his job to get stuff out of people like Mike." Sam had whisperd, grabbing her by the arm as Mike walked a head to servery the meeting site. "You sure he's ready for this?"

"No." She shook her head. "I _know_ he's not ready Sam but we don't have the luxury of time right now."

"Okay. Just remember what we learned about him. They removed him from the field for not being a team player. He couldn't stop being a vigilante, so he's like the anti-Mike okay. Just make sure he remembers that. No _greater good_ talk in there or we're toast."

"Trust me Sam, he's not much on the greater good right now." She sighed.

"Okay." He nodded. "You watch him in there? I'll watch Agent Porter from out here?" Fi nodded following Michael into the restaraunt.

"Sam's going to be right outside." She told him trying to sound supportive, pointing to one of the big open windows. "Let's make sure he has good visuals."

He moved into the booth. Fiona stood at the edge of the table still looking around absently, until she spotted Agent Porter. He looked just like the official picture Sam's _buddy_ had pulled with his file. He looked from her to Michael before making his way over.

"Jesse Porter." Michael said officially, as if they were old business acquaintances.

"You must be Michael Westen." His low voice rumbled out of him before he sat down and cast a look at Fiona. "Miss. Glenanne." Fiona smiled, dashing any hopes the 'suit knowing her name card' would rattle her. "I'm almost embarrassed to say we didn't realize you were still in town. Last we heard you'd wizened up and headed back to Ireland."

"Just for a visit." Fiona hummed. "Family and friends that sort of thing. Been back a while now."

"Well, your boyfriend here's been a busy boy while you were away." He set a file on the desk and opened it dramatically. "A little extortion. Some weapons deals.. Ooo a kidnapping, it's a mixed bag. You really shouldn't leave him unattended."

"Are you here to give Fiona relationship advice?" Michael asked, the edge creeping into his voice. "Or to find out what I know about Strickler and how he must have people at the CIA?"

"Yeah about that. I had to check and double check Agent Garza's last psych eval because what he's talking about here is.. not all that sane."

"It's domestic terrorism is what it is." Michael announced. "And over sea's war for profit. It's big and it's real and I was sitting right in the middle of it."

"Unbeknownst to you." Jesse raised his eyebrows with a sigh. "And here I thought you covert ops guys were supposed to be two steps a head."

"I was distracted." Michael said in a sing song voice, gesturing towards the woman at his right. "Fiona was away, my mom was in the middle of a move. People were threatening to kill me if I didn't give them _top secret flight information._"

"And we appreciate you not giving it to them."

"Did you get anything from Gilroy?" Michael asked leaning forward. Porter moved back slightly.

"I'm not at liberty to-." Fiona watched Michael's jaw tense.

"Then why are we here?" She interrupted quickly.

"Mr. Westen is here because we're hoping that he's willing to tell us what he knows about Tom Stricker." Porter looked at Fiona. "I'm assuming you're here to make sure your man doesn't say anything that will get him into trouble."

"That's-." Fiona shook her head.

"And my guess is that Commander Axe out there is here just in case I make any quick moves towards his buddy." He gestured to Sam who sat reading a magazine just outside the window. Fiona watched him slowly drop it and turn his attention to their table. "Did I get all that?"

Sam stood up slowly and made his way through the side door and sat down beside the Agent. Fi felt Micheal's hand grip the seat beside him, she laid her palm on his leg. Clicking her eyes up to Sam.

"Do you want what we have on Strickler or not?" Sam redirected.

"Of course he does or he wouldn't be here would he Michael?" Fiona hummed rubbing his leg before pulling her hand away. Westen kept his eyes locked on Porter's.

"I mean.. if he doesn't want the surveillance tapes or access to our bugs.." Sam made a face.

"Or details on every connection that Strickler's had me running jobs for in the last year.." Michael finally interjected. "All that extortion, the weapons deals.. the kidnappings. That's lots of nasty people the CIA may be interested in."

"The only thing I'm interested in is who Strickler works for."

"Vaughn." Sam shrugged. "Case closed."

"No." Porter glanced at him before his eyes settled back on Westen. "Simon Etcher was definably not on Vaughn's side. Disgruntled employee maybe that's the closest I can figure. Who ever Gilroy was working for.. they weren't fans of Vaughn or his people."

Fiona smiled not only did they not know about 'Berlin 2007' but Jesse Porter had just told them more than what they'd hoped for.

"I've been working on this for a year." He told them seriously.

"What we have can blow this thing way open." Michael promised.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Porter told Mike calmly, with a fleeting glance at Fiona. Michael's spine stiffened and Fi licked her lips to keep from grinning.

"We have a deal Agent Porter." He told him.

"One thing, and it's a deal breaker." Jesse sighed. "You tell me everything. I know how you Covert ops guys work. You're always trying to keep something in your pocket. I find out you're holding something back from me I swear I will have you pulled up on chargers for every one of your wild nights you had while the Mrs. was away."

"Understood." Michael told him quickly. "But these are still my people and we're going to figure this out my way."

"I can appreciate that." Jesse nodded. "So we're doing this?"

Michael looked at Fiona, she gave him a light smile before they both turned to Sam.

"Welcome to the team." Axe reached out his hand and Porter took it carefully.

_might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>(still missing you)<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>(still missing you)<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>but you're my everlasting friend<br>will you be coming home?_

"Something's missing." Michael huffed dropping the pile of papers onto the workbench in frustration. Fiona reached her hand out and laid it on his back, withdrawing it slowly when he tensed. He blinked at the table top. "Sorry."

"It's okay." She told him quickly, gathering up the sheets that had fallen on the floor. "I think you need to be finished for now."

"I have to-."

"Agent Porter will be here tomorrow. Let him try to make some sense of it." He shook his head, still not looking over at her. She swallowed hard fighting to keep his needs above hers. "Michael?"

"Yeah Fi?" He whispered.

"I have some things to look into tonight down by Homestead."

He turned to look at her.

"You didn't take a job?"

"No." She shook her head. "Of course not, but I wanted to make sure that we're adequately supplied for our latest undertaking and I have a storage unit down there with things we might find useful."

"Good thinking."

"Sam wanted to come by anyway, I was going to ask him to stay." She gestured at the files. "I thought maybe I'd get a hotel room down there for the night?"

"I don't need a babysitter Fi."

"You're not staying here alone Michael." She told him frankly. "You're not ready."

"Fiona-." He started to argue and she moved towards him.

"No arguments." She told him quickly. "You're not ready."

The stared off, even though he knew she was right and that she'd sooner render him unconscious and in her trunk outside a hotel in homestead then leave him here alone. He knew she'd seen his need for space and was trying to honor that without bruising both of their pride.

"Okay." He breathed. She nodded picking up the phone to call Sam.

"Fi?" He called as she made her way to the balcony.

"Yes Michael?"

"Thanks." She smiled, giving him a tight nod before heading half way up the balcony steps. She stopped for a minute, trying to get her emotions in check.

"Sam?" She called softly. "Can you stay with Michael tonight?" She swallowed. "No it's fine. I think we just both need a break from each other. It's fine." She pressed her lips together in an attempt not to cry. "Sam can you please just..?" She swallowed. "Thank you."

She closed the call before squeezing her eyes shut. She'd fix this. She'd get him back. All the way back. She silently promised that to herself, and to him.

…...  
><strong>Everlasting Friends<strong>  
>…...<p>

_a heartbeat skip, relationship  
>inside a bubble bath<br>an icing drip below your lip  
>so we undo the math<br>a sudden slip between  
>my pathetic sedatives<br>a real-life script of how  
>mistakes became our medicine, so<em>

delay the hurtful words  
>of complicated overcast<br>please take the message that i'm  
>picking up my chin at last<br>i said my confidence  
>it gets stronger when you're next to me<br>but we pray from miles away  
>in quest for what we long to be<p>

i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>(still missing you)<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>(still missing you)<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>but you're my everlasting friend<br>everlasting friend

a heartbeat skip, relationship  
>so we would stay up late<br>a teardrop drip below your lip  
>beside the airport gate<br>a sudden slip from where  
>we used to be a year ago<br>a real-life script of how  
>our hands would hold and not let go<p>

but delay the mournful words  
>of complicated overcast<br>please take the message  
>that you taught me how to live at last<br>but i said my confidence  
>it gets stronger when you're next to me<br>but we wave respect goodbye  
>in quest for what we long to be, but<p>

i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>(still missing you)<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>(still missing you)<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>but you're my everlasting friend<p>

will you be coming home?  
>(everlasting friend)<br>my everlasting friend, will you be coming home?  
>(everlasting friend)<p>

i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>(still missing you)<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>(still missing you)<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again

i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>i might crumble, i might take a fall again<br>i might crumble, i might take a fall again  
>i might crumble, i might take a fall again<br>i just want to know that you'll be coming home  
>i just want to know that you'll be coming home<br>i just want to know that you'll be coming home  
>i just want to know that you'll be coming home<p> 


	7. Into the Ocean

A/N Yes we will go back to Ireland, and yes it will make sense. :) at least i hope it will.

_**Nicole**_ I'm still tossing around some of your predictions. I seriously love one of your guesses and still might change up my idea.. Not sure yet. I wonder when you're going to start writing? You have great ideas.. :)

And now.. what i think may be my best mission chapter ever.. (sorry maggie..lol)

…  
><em>Into the Ocean<br>..._

_I'm sinking to the bottom of my_  
><em>Everything that freaks me out<em>  
><em>The lighthouse beam has just run out<em>  
><em>I'm cold as cold as cold can be (Be)<em>  
><em>I want to swim away but don't know how<em>  
><em>Sometimes it feels just like I'm fallin' in the ocean<em>  
><em>…...<em>

"I don't like this plan." Fiona announced loudly, looking across the room at Sam for support. He looked down before looking up at her with a nod.

"Me either." He chimed.

"I'm not wild about it either you guys but it's the best we have." Michael moaned.

"It puts you back in that house with Strikler alone." Fiona moaned.

"You have a better idea?" Porter looked at her in irritation.

"Take me with you." Fiona whispered.

"No." Michael snapped.

"Michael.. what's he going to do? Huh?" She challenged. "Shoot me?"

"Fiona I'm not letting Vaughn and Strickler know that you're back in-."

"You don't think they already know?" She yelped.

"Tom hasn't said anything that-" Michael pointed at the receiver.

"If Vaughn is the big 'secret shadow government' genius that you all think he is then he knows I'm here okay!" She huffed before lowering her voice to a low hum and looking directly at Michael. "If you are going, I'm going."

"Let Fiona play chicken with him. If they feel like they still have Mike even half on their side.. it's better than the alternative. Let her be the Doubting Thomas planting the seeds in his mind." Sam agreed. "I like this plan better."

Westen looked at the table top. He knew what they were saying, what they wouldn't say in front of Jesse Porter. The were worried if he went back in, he'd get sucked back into the game. He looked at Sam first. Axe had on that 'you know we're right' look that Michael had grown to hate. When he looked at Fiona he was reminded of the look a bear has when you get to close to it's young.

"Tom would see you as a threat." He told her honestly. "He likes to eliminate threats as quickly as possible."

"Good thing I'll have you there to back me up." She said softly.

_...  
>Let the waves up take me down<br>Let the hurricane set in motion, yeah  
>Let the rain of what I feel right now, come down<br>Let the rain come down  
>…...<em>

"Hi Mom." Michael sighed into the phone.

"Michael your brother left a while ago." She told him.

"I know. I just got off the phone with him. I'm at the rondevue point."

"Alone?" She tried to sound unconcerned, but failed miserably.

"No Ma, Fi's with me." He whispered. "Don't worry she's not going to let me walk to the mailbox alone."

"Good." Madelyn Westen grumbled. He couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry mom." He told her softly. "I know I haven't been myself lately."

"No Michael, I'm sorry." She huffed. "Had I known had bad it had all gotten I would have never stayed in Fort Lauderdale. I would have never left you in the first place."

"It's okay Mom." His soft clear voice made her smile. "I learned something from this. I learned that I really do need to focus on something good."

"Do you need me down there?" She asked, with just a hint of worry in her voice.

"No. Mom. Stay up there, it's not safe here. Not until this is over." He told her quickly.

"Okay, but when this is over I expect you to actually come and visit." She teased.

"I promise." He smiled.

"Do what Fiona tells you to do."

"I will." He sighed.

**_...  
>I'm just a normal boy<br>That sank when I fell overboard  
>My ship would leave the country<br>But I'd rather swim ashore  
>...<em>**

"Michael?" Tom Strickler called from the top of the stairs when the security system beeped to let someone in. "Is that you?"

"Yeah." Westen called into the air, his roommate smiled. Vaughn hadn't thought he'd come back, that was a phone call he'd enjoy making later. He started down the stairs, stopping suddenly when he saw Michael had brought a guest.

"You remember Fi." He whispered, chucking his thumb towards Fiona absently before picking up their bags and starting up the stairs.

"Ms Glenanne." He said smoothly. "It's been a while."

"Nice to see you again..Strickler." She told him, not bothering to hide her mistrust.

"I thought you went to see your mother?"

"I did." Michael called as he came back down the steps. He walked back over and pressed his lips to the top of Fiona's head. "Fi surprised me. I didn't even know she was back."

"My job in Ireland wrapped up and I thought I'd lure him up to Madelyn's." She grinned. "You're so gullible for a spy Michael."

Westen snorted.

"On that note. Let me show you the bedroom before I get in the shower." He told her dryly.

"Oh really Michael I think I can find it. If not I'm sure Tom can show me." She rolled her eyes.

"Okay." He smiled at her before making his way back up the steps. Fiona smiled at Strickler.

"Are you planning on being here long?" The man asked carefully.

"Oh I'm not going anywhere, roomie." She told him smugly, before clapping her heals across the living room and tossing the refrigerator open. "Oh Good." She reached inside and grabbed a yogurt. "Peach."

…...

_I want to swim away but don't know how  
>Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean<br>Let the waves up take me down  
>Let the hurricane set in motion... yeah<em>

…_..._

_(Two weeks later)_

"How's it going Sam." Fiona whispered, leaning forward to buy oranges from his little stand.

"Well let's see. I spent the last week listening to Vaughn trying to formulate a plan to kill you and Strickler trying to talk him out of it." He mumbled, watching her feel each piece of produce.

"How sweet. Maybe I'll rethink my plan to kill him in his sleep." She hummed, handing him the fruit.

"Seriously Fi, Vaughn wants you out of the picture and quickly."

"He'll have to shoot me."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Michael piped up as he slid up beside them and pulled out his wallet. "How's our buddy in counter intel?"

"Jesse? He's my new best friend. I don't think the guy gets out much Mikey. Seriously."

"Careful Sam he could be playing you." Michael cautioned, with a grin and a nod like he was making small talk.

"You think I don't know the difference between a lonely guy and a manipulating s.o.b? He's the former Mike I promise." He handed Michael his change. "This job and some middle management desk jockey named _Marv_.. that's pretty much all he's got."

"Sounds sad." Fiona quipped, tossing her hair back and batting her eyes at Michael. He narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

"I do have new development on the Strickler radio network. New guy. His names John. Seems like he's a pretty damn important guy. Your housemate's been trying to get him on the phone for a while now."

"He ever mention him Michael?" Westen shook his head at Fiona's whisper before picking up the bag of oranges.

"Keep working on this Sam." He said softly.

"You got it Brother." He nodded, waving as they walked away. Michael slipped his hand back into Fiona's.

"What do you think?" She asked him lightly.

"I think I have to do something you're not going to like."

_...  
>Now waking to the sun<br>I calculate what I had done  
>Like jumping from the bow (yeah)<br>Just to prove that I knew how (yeah)  
><em>…_..._

_(Three weeks later)_

The first time Fiona meets Vaughn he gives her a look that tells her he knows everything there is to know about her. He smiles charmingly across the table at her as she picks at the Indian food he's brought, from her favorite restaurant.

"Michael.." He rasps like a snake and it makes Fiona want to go after him with a garden hoe until he's in pieces. "Another meeting with Simon is off the table for now." He shakes his bald head and looks at her plate.

"And why's that?"

"He's been moved." Vaughn explains. "It's very risky keeping him anywhere easily accessible with someone out there trying to get their hands on him."

"Exactly. I want to know who that is." Michael explained. "I think I can get him to tell me. He thinks.." He shook his head. "He thinks we're brothers or something."

"Who sent him isn't relevant to our work Michael." Tom grimaced.

"Oh no I'd love to know who sent him Strickler. I just don't think he'd tell."

"And I think he would." Michael added.

"What do you think about all this Miss Glenanne?" Vaughn asked.

"I think that Michael could convince a Rabbi to eat a BLT if he wanted too." She said quickly. "But I don't really see the why of it either."

"See." Tom gestured to her.

"I don't understand why you're so opposed to it." She mumbled arching her eyebrow at Strickler. "You seem to like associating Michael with sociopaths."

"I'll try not to take offense at that Miss Glenanne." Vaughn chuckled.

"Whatever." She shrugged.

"Tom's just looking out for me Fi. I told you, he's a friend." Michael told her quickly.

"Whatever." She smiled at him. "If you'll excuse me, I need to shower. Michael promised me a movie tonight."

Vaughn stood when she did, gaining a curious glance from the two other men at the table as Fiona sashayed away.

…...

_I need something for protection_  
><em>Maybe flotsam junk will do just fine<em>  
><em>the jetsam sunk, I'm left behind<em>  
><em>I'm treading for my life believe me<em>  
><em>(How can I keep up this breathing)<em>

...

"I got something." Sam whispered, leaning over Fiona's sleeping form and tapping Michael on the shoulder. He jerked awake before turning to Sam. "I got something." He handed his friend one of the ear buds. Westen leaned over Fi to share the other with Sam.

"_I need to get in touch with him now."_

"_I'm sorry Mr. Strickler you aren't on the list."_

"_Well put me on the list Carol!" He hissed. _

"_You know that's not the way it works Mr-."_

"_Fine Fine I need you to leave a message then. Tell him that Westen's closing in on this. It's only a matter of time before he gives Vaughn information that's going to lead him straight to us. Then all the work we've done here goes right out the window."_

"_I'll pass along the message Mr. Strickler."_

"This is good stuff." Michael murmered. "You need to take it to Jesse."

"SHH!" The woman behind them hissed, turning to look at them in annoyance.

"Come on lady it's a stupid movie." Sam mumbled. Michael pulled back and looked at Fiona carefully tucking a piece of her hair back into place.

"Everything going okay?" Sam asked moving his pointer finger between the two of them. "With you guys?"

Michael took a deep breath.

"It's complicated Sam." He sighed.

"Isn't it always?"

"Yeah." Michael leaned back into his own seat.

"I'm gonna get this over to Jesse. Maybe do some digging into our file on Strickler see if he's got any mysterious John's or Carol''s in his past."

"SHHH!" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Believe me lady this is way more interesting then the movie." He waved his hand at the screne before standing up. "Nite Mike."

"Thanks Sam." Westen yawned, pulling Fiona's hand into his and placing them both on his thigh before leaning back against the seat and falling back asleep.

…...

(A week later)

Michael held the flyer that had been left on the hood of the Charger in his hand as he crossed the street sighing again before looking at the picture again.

Lost Dog  
>Answers to <strong>Chuck<strong>  
>Last seen <em>WEDNESDAY<em>  
>Near Vivamos Bar in South Beach<br>Reward for anyone **HAVING INFORMATION**  
>please call <em>Mr. Finley<em> at  
>555-4343 between the hours of<br>12-4

This was defiantly the corner, all it needed to match the picture was the big golden lab. He could see the Vivamos from here and wasn't surprised when he Saw Sam get up from the table and head into the men's room. He waited a minute before following.

"Where's Fi?" He asked immediately after the door closed behind his friend.

"Back at the house."

"Alone?"

"Yeah. Tom has a meeting. What's wrong?"

"We found John." Sam murmured. "It's John Barrett. The John Barrett from Drake technologies. Strickler worked for him for like a decade a few years back. Apparently he put him on another assignment."

"John Barrett is the evil mastermind?"

"Yeah. And I think Strickler's about to get fired."

"What?"

"Barrett's frustrated. Apparently when you foiled Gilroy's attempt at letting Simon out you were supposed to be the bomb Strickler tucked inside of Vaughn's little organization."

"And Strickler can't seem to get me to explode." Michael's mind was reeling.

"Vaughn hired Simon to go after Barrett. Simon couldn't or wouldn't do the job, so they cut him off, tried to have him killed and brought me in. Barrett finds Simon and sends him finish off Vaughn. Strickler points me to Gilroy. I don't pull of the job either.." He shook his head. "Why did't they kill me?"

"Strickler must have convinced them. That's what last year was all about Mike. He isolated you had you do all those jobs."

"I was auditioning for Barrett." Michael growled, swinging his body around and punching the door to the bathroom stall.

"Mike!" Sam redirected. "What am I missing here? Why do Vaughn and Barrett want each other gone? You'd think they'd want to form some axis of evil or something."

"Competition or something. God! How was I so stupid?"

"Mike will you focus? We have a big problem. Barrett doesn't want you to meet with Simon and Strickler doesn't feel like he has control over you anymore."

Sam's phone rang he lifted it from his pocket.

"Jesse. Wait what?" He looked at Michael in alarm. "How long ago? No, no we're closer. Meet us there."

"Mike, Strickler just gave the go ahead for something. I'm thinking-."

"Fiona." Michael whispered, before turning and rushing out of the bathroom. He grabbed his phone and started to dial cursing when she didn't answer. "Sam he's gonna let them kill her."

_...  
>It's midnight's late reminder of<br>The loss of her, the one I love  
>My will to quickly end it all<br>Set front row in my need to fall  
>Into the ocean, end it all<br>Into the ocean, end it all  
>Into the ocean, end it all<br>into the ocean...end it all  
>...<em>

"Fiona?" He yelled, swinging the door open and storming into the house.

"Your too late." Came a strained voice from the living room, Strickler staggered up from the couch. "They took her."

"Who took her?" He looked at the man's bloody face before grabbing him by the collar. "Who took her?"

"Mike!" Sam yelled, trying to keep his friend from killing the only lead they had to Fi.

"Vaughn's people. I tried to stop them, but there where five guys."

"Stop lying!" Westen screamed. "No more lies. I know who you work for and I know what you did. Tell me where Fiona is. Now!"

Strickler's face broke into a grin.

"It's too late." He shook his head. "It's too late. Heroic rescues aren't going to happen now. Vaughn's going to kill her. Or torture her to get what he wants from you. Either way she's dead."

"Strickler." Michael tightened his grip on his shirt until he gagged a little.

"We could have taken them down Michael.. but you just couldn't seal the deal!" Striker leaned his head closer. "You just had to listen to her. Was she that good in bed?"

"You son of a-." Michael let him go, grabbing his gun and training on his so called partner. "Tell me where she is."

"It's too late. She's gone." He chuckled.

"Mike No!" Sam watched Michael's fingers tense, yelling just before Westen pulled the trigger.

"Sam!" Jesse Porter came into the room with his nine mil up and ready. He lowered it slowly when he took in the scene. "Fiona's voice just came over Mike's bug."

Westen looked down at his wrist, his face brightened softly. He'd taken his watch off when he took a run this morning and left it next to the bed. Fiona must have had time to grab it.

"She's in the trunk of a black lexus heading south."

"Is she alright?"

"They smacked her around pretty good apparently. They think she's unconscious, she thinks they're going to dump her off some bridge. We gotta go." Michael hurried back out to the Charger.

"Jesse." Sam began looking at Tom Strikler's body.

"I don't want to know." He told him quickly before tucking his gun in and hurrying after Mike.

…...

**Into the ocean**

_I'm just a normal boy  
>That sank when I fell overboard<br>My ship would leave the country  
>But I'd rather swim ashore<em>

Without a life vest I'd be stuck again  
>Wish I was much more masculine<br>Maybe then I could learn to swim  
>Like 'fourteen miles away'<p>

Now floating up and down  
>I spin, colliding into sound<br>Like whales beneath me diving down  
>I'm sinking to the bottom of my<br>Everything that freaks me out  
>The lighthouse beam has just run out<br>I'm cold as cold as cold can be  
>be<p>

I want to swim away but don't know how  
>Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean<br>Let the waves up take me down  
>Let the hurricane set in motion... yeah<br>Let the rain of what I feel right now...come down  
>Let the rain come down<p>

Where is the coastguard  
>I keep looking each direction<br>For a spotlight, give me something  
>I need something for protection<br>Maybe flotsam junk will do just fine  
>the jetsam sunk, I'm left behind<br>I'm treading for my life believe me  
>(How can I keep up this breathing)<p>

Not knowing how to think  
>I scream aloud, begin to sink<br>My legs and arms are broken down  
>With envy for the solid ground<br>I'm reaching for the life within me  
>How can one man stop his ending<br>I thought of just your face  
>Relaxed, and floated into space<p>

I want to swim away but don't know how  
>Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean<br>Let the waves up take me down  
>Let the hurricane set in motion... yeah<br>Let the rain of what I feel right now...come down  
>Let the rain come down<br>Let the rain come down

Now waking to the sun  
>I calculate what I had done<br>Like jumping from the bow (yeah)  
>Just to prove that I knew how (yeah)<br>It's midnight's late reminder of  
>The loss of her, the one I love<br>My will to quickly end it all  
>Set front row in my need to fall<p>

Into the ocean, end it all  
>Into the ocean, end it all<br>Into the ocean, end it all  
>into the ocean...end it all<p>

[Zayra]  
>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)<br>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)  
>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)<p>

I want to swim away but don't know how  
>Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean<br>Let the waves up take me down  
>Let the hurricane set in motion (yeah)<br>Let the rain of what I feel right now...come down  
>Let the rain come down<br>Let the rain come down

Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)  
>(In to space)<br>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)  
>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)<br>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)  
>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)<br>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)  
>(I thought of just your face)<br>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)  
>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)<br>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)  
>Into the ocean (goodbye) end it all (goodbye)<p> 


	8. Drilled a wire though my cheek

_****A/N Sorry doesn't cut it.. but I do have a lot of Family Drama right now, but I did get this done.. :) More soon. ****_

_****Lori****_

_****Drilled a wire though my cheek****_

**…**_**..**_****

_moving every inch around me  
>to defuse your private bomb<br>i stretch myself surrounding  
>and protecting you from harm<em>

**… **

It was one of those moments where everyone telling the story would exclaim 'the guy came out of nowhere.' Jesse Porter actually let the barrel of his gun slip when Michael Westen dropped from one of the bridge pilings and took down two of the men at the back of the Sudan.

He glanced at Axe, but the man was already aiming his Winchester. Porter watched in shock as Sam fired against the iron edge of the bridge rail. The other man jumped away as the sparks flew.

Jesse snapped out of it coming towards the group slowly, gun raised. Sam quickly put up his hand, shooting in the general area of the fleeing men.

"Let them go." He told Jesse calmly. Porter looked at him like he was insane.

"But they-."

"They'll get theirs, believe me." Sam murmured.

Westen reached into the car and released the trunk before yanking it open. He reached into his back pocked and yanked out a Swiss army knife and quickly cut the zip ties from her arms as she scrambled out of the car and wrapped her freed arms around his shoulders. He held her against him like a child, pressing the back of her head into his chest.

Jesse watched Axe jog over and take the knife from Michael.

"Mike let me get her legs." He said softly and the other man readjusted his hold so that Sam could cut the zip tie around her ankles. Axe looked up into the air for a second before giving Westen a push. "Get in the Charger."

Porter looked around for a second before his eyes widened. He could hear the sirens too, Jesse realized Westen had to get out of there.

"I'll follow you." He told Sam as the other man ushered his friends into the back of the black car. He peered into the back, watching Michael stroke Fiona's bruised face. He looked around at the scene again before hurrying back to his own car as Axe revved up the Charger and started to speed away.

"_I'm sorry" _

Porter jumped when Fiona's tiny voice came through the car's sound system. He'd forgotten about the bug.

"_Shh.. No. It's alright_." Westen's voice was thick and warm. _"Let me look at your head." _

She hissed, and Jesse could hear the the other man's breath catch. "_I'm gonna have to stitch this._"

"_Michael I should have been paying-._"

"_Shh.. don't... it's alright."_ His voice mumbled. "_It's alright._" She sighed and Westen cleared his throat. "Sam we can't go back to the loft."

"_I'm already on it, Brother_."

**…...**

_**i use a wallet for your mouth  
>so when you bite you will not bleed<br>i drilled a wire through my cheek  
>and let it down and out my sleeve <strong>_

_**...**_

"Why are we here Sam?" Michael growled, looking at the house with barely contained emotion.

"Where is here?" Jesse asked in confusion as Sam started towards the garage, fiddling with the door until it opened. No one answered. He watched Michael glance at Fiona, running his hand down her thigh before straightening up and walking over to a nearby window.

Westen ran his hand across the pane like he knew exactly what he was looking for. Porter watched with interest. Before turning to watch Axe pull into the garage. By the time he turned back Michael had the window open.

"Sam." Westen mumbled stomping back to the car and helping Fiona to her feet. "Don't you think the new owners are going to notice we're here?"

"No new owners Mike." Sam mumbled, closing the barn style doors and hiding the Charger away.  
>"It's vacant."<p>

"What do you mean? I was standing there when they came through the open house I-." He gestured towards the back door. Axe shook his head. Michael made a face.

"It's been vacant. Barry traced the account.."

"Strickler." He momentarily released his grip on Fiona when the reality hit him, quickly snapping back to the moment when she stumbled. He swept her off the ground and into his arms.

"I'm alright." She murmured. "Lift me up and I'll unlock the door." She gestured to the window.

"No way." He sighed, looking around for somewhere to set her before looking at Sam. Axe made a face at the window and looked at Porter. Jesse grunted.

"Who's house am I breaking into exactly?" His voice was strained as he hoisted his body into the small opening.

"My mother's." Michael told him softly. "At least it used to be."

The back door unlocked and Jesse stuck his head out.

"Strickler brought your mother's house?" The agent grunted. "Kinda had a sick little thing for you Westen."

"You have no idea." Michael mumbled, moving past him and into the house. He stilled, Fiona's head lifted slightly from his chest, she studied his face. "Shit."

She followed his eyes. The house was the same as the day she'd last seen it. Not completely, she realized as her eyes slipped over empty shelves, Maddy's personal belongings were gone, but the decor remained. She raised her fingers and brushed them across his cheek. He dropped his eyes to her before hastily moving towards the couch. Sam pulled off the dusty sheet covering it and Westen lowered her to it carefully.

"The relator said she had an estate sale." Michael grumbled. "She gave her three thousand dollars, and told her she donated everything that didn't sell."

"I know Buddy." Sam soothed, his hand dropping against the red medical bag. Michael dropped his eyes to it before gesturing for it.

"Fiona needs stitches." He murmured.

"Want me to do it?" Sam offered.

"No." He said quickly, his voice soft. "I'll do it."

...  
><em><strong>and as your pulling out the best of me<br>yeah which never ever comes  
>this wires all <strong>**that's**** left of me  
>and its hooked within my gums<br>within my gums  
>... <strong>_

She'd been watching his face for a while now, watching the storms blow across his eyes as he took in everything that had happened in the last few days. The last few years maybe. It was odd to watch him and to not have him know. He was Michael Westen, that usually didn't happen. Apparently it did while laying on the couch in a room he'd never expected to see again with the woman he'd just killed for wrapped in his arms.

"How long have you been awake?" He whispered breaking the spell.

"A while." She smiled.

"I'm loosing it." He practically moaned, letting his head lull to the side.

"No Michael, I'm just that good." She told him coyly. He dropped his eyes to her face and smiled.

"I-." His face slipped and she slid her palm up his chest to his neck.

"Don't. It's not your fault. He was good and you were going through a lot in your personal life-."

"That's why spies don't have personal lives." He countered.

"Yeah well, oops Michael! You have one." She snapped, he jumped slightly. They held each others eyes until he exhaled unevenly and pressed his face into her hair and nodded. She listened to him breathe before glancing around again. "Where's Sam and Austin Powers?"

He chuckled a little and she smiled to herself.

"Sam and Agent _Porter_ are trying to get a fix on Vaughn." He told her softly. "He's not going to let us get away so easily."

"We shouldn't stay here." She whispered almost mournfully. It felt so right to be in this room, her head on his chest. It felt like home.

"You need to rest and we can't go back to the loft. I don't want to lead them to Sam's place if we can' help it. This is where we need to be for now."

"Michael-."

"I agree with you Fi but you have a concussion and unless you have a CT machine hidden in the trunk of the Charger I don't know about I'd like you to just take it easy for a few more hours until I'm reasonably sure you're not bleeding into your brain."

She closed her mouth and considered it.

"Your ridiculously dramatic concern is sweet." She decided, moving her hand slowly to the side of her face and touching her temple. "Is it that bad?"

He moved her hand away holding it in his own.

"Yes." It was half a hiss and half a sigh. She leaned back against him with a huff.

"Great. All I need is a big scar and a dented skull." She became acutely aware of the pulsing heat behind her eyes.

"My stitching is meticulous and your hair will hide the dent." He assured her, pressing his lips to the closest patch of her skin he could find. She smiled weakly. "You want more pain meds?"

She shook her head before wincing. He chuckled despite the tightness in his throat.

"That's a yes then." He teased reaching to the coffee table beside them and collecting the bottle of pills. "This one make you loopy." He murmured, shaking the bottle of miscellaneous pills until something else caught his eye. "How about blue?"

She knew full well he knew the name of each pill in the bottle, he knew full well she didn't care.

"Blue's a good color on me." She shrugged, taking the medication and the water he offered. He readjusted his hold on her and leaned back into the couch. She listened to his silence as the drugs did their job.

"Michael?" She whispered after a few minutes. "What are you-?" She trailed off, lifting her head to look at him. _Thinking? Feeling? Plotting?_

He blinked at her.

"Orange." He told her softly his eyebrows arching.

"Orange?" She asked with soft concern.

"It's a good color on you." He let his eyes shut as an exhausted sigh left his lips.. "Makes your eyes look more green." She traced her fingers over the hand he had clamped over her bicep. "I like it when you wear those orange-y brown colors."

...  
><em><strong>i didnt think to bring a wash cloth<br>and rub away the dirt  
>myself and i we share<br>this barely beating heart of hurt  
>and when the hurt comes theres an argument,<br>a fight to save a smile  
>a small attack on human tears<br>to dry them for a while**_

"Mike?"

"Yeah Sam." He whispered, his eyes not opening.

"We gotta move." Axe mumbled.

"There's a three man team." Porter was announcing from the kitchen. "I'm not sure they saw us."

"Damn it." Westen cursed, carefully rubbing his hands over Fiona's shoulders. "Fi."

She stirred as he pushed her up from him, supporting her weight until she started to rise.

"What?"

"Vaughn's coming." He muttered before helping Sam toss things into the med bag.

"Shit." She groaned, testing her balance before pulling Michael's sig from his waistband and checking the clip. Sam reached over with her H&K and she took it with a nod.

"Fronts clear." Porter mumbled from the windows. Fiona stood up quickly and started to the door.

Michael's eyebrows creased as he watched her.

"Fi." He called lightly, his eyes reaching the top of the door frame. He'd lived his whole life in that house, he'd spent countless hours watching that door longingly. He knew every crack. Every bend. "Fiona!"

He yelped jumping forward as her hand gripped the door knob and started to pull. He grabbed her by the upper arm and flung her towards Jesse who's eyes had landed in the same spot Westen's had. Sam muttered obscenities as Porter had instinctively turned Fiona away from the scene and covered her small body with his.

Michael had never stopped heading towards the door, and when the trigger lock sprang the bomb exploded wood and glass directly into his face.

****_.._****

**_Drilled a wire.._**

**_i try to stay on top of you  
>to hold your body down<br>your shaking seems to hinder  
>every grip that i have found<em>**

**moving every inch around me**  
><strong>to defuse your private bomb<strong>  
><strong>i stretch myself surrounding<strong>  
><strong>and protecting you from harm<strong>

**i use a wallet for your mouth**  
><strong>so when you bite you will not bleed<strong>  
><strong>i drilled a wire through my cheek<strong>  
><strong>and let it down and out my sleeve<strong>

**and as your pulling out the best of me**  
><strong>yeah which never ever comes<strong>  
><strong>this wires all that's left of me<strong>  
><strong>and its hooked within my gums<strong>  
><strong>within my gums...<strong>

**so drill it, so drill it**  
><strong>so hard<strong>  
><strong>feel it<strong>  
><strong>(screaming)<strong>

**so drill it, so drill it**  
><strong>so hard<strong>  
><strong>feel it<strong>  
><strong>(screaming)<strong>

**its proof to show that i bleed for this**  
><strong>and i've cut myself the shame<strong>  
><strong>but to get to know this macicist<strong>  
><strong>who has stolen my first name<strong>

**pretending he's a teacher**  
><strong>holding all my weight at ease<strong>  
><strong>yet the teacher seems to split in two<strong>  
><strong>destroying both his knees<strong>

**now crawling i position myself**  
><strong>below your broken wing<strong>  
><strong>i lift your featherd left arm<strong>  
><strong>where you hide your heart for me<strong>

**i never noticed it was swolen**  
><strong>with the touch of brutal pain<strong>  
><strong>i never knew a heart could live inside<strong>  
><strong>the rust from all your rain<strong>  
><strong>all your rain...<strong>

**so drill it, so drill it**  
><strong>so hard<strong>  
><strong>feel it<strong>  
><strong>(screaming)<strong>

**so drill it, so drill it**  
><strong>so hard<strong>  
><strong>feel it<strong>  
><strong>( screaming)<strong>

**i didn't think to bring a wash cloth**  
><strong>and rub away the dirt<strong>  
><strong>myself and i we share<strong>  
><strong>this barely beating heart of hurt<strong>

**and when the hurt comes there's an argument,**  
><strong>a fight to save a smile<strong>  
><strong>a small attack on human tears<strong>  
><strong>to dry them for a while<strong>

**a dream we all should count on ;**  
><strong>yeah a vision i believe<strong>  
><strong>where confidence is found<strong>  
><strong>attached to wires on our sleeve<strong>

**where loneliness is history**  
><strong>told to pack your shit and leave<strong>  
><strong>where guidance is a fortune<strong>  
><strong>told to help in time of need<strong>

**and were crying emits secrets**  
><strong>its the art of how we grieve<strong>  
><strong>and lessons are the key<strong>  
><strong>to every goal i will achieve<strong>  
><strong>i will achieve<strong>

**so drill it, so drill it**  
><strong>so hard<strong>  
><strong>feel it<strong>  
><strong>(screaming)<strong>  
><strong>so drill it, so drill it<strong>  
><strong>so hard<strong>  
><strong>feel it<strong>  
><strong>(screaming)<strong>

**so drill it, so drill it**  
><strong>so hard<strong>  
><strong>feel it<strong>  
><strong>(screaming)<strong>

**so drill it, so drill it**  
><strong>so hard<strong>  
><strong>feel it<strong>  
><strong>(screaming)<strong>


	9. Let it go

**…...  
><em><strong>Let it go<br>…...**_**

_**Why do i feel this way? Why do i kneel?  
>How could i let it go?<br>Why do i feel? Why do i feel?  
>Why?<strong>_

**…**_..._****

The room exploded. Glass flew. Ciaos ensued.

"Mike!" Sam. That was Sam. Sam's voice loud and strong over the screeching of smoke alarms and cracking of flames. "Mike!"

Porter lifted his weight from the little body beneath his, carefully pressing his fingers to her throat. The very action seemed to revive her. She let out a yelp, twisting his wrist violently away from her.

"Hey! Hey!" He whined, prying her hand off as the look of realization dawned on her dirty face.

"Michael." She whispered, before coughing out dirt and smoke. "Oh my God."

He tried to keep her from sitting up, but it was no use. She was already scrambling to her feet. Porter winced as the flames snapped above their head.

"Hey!" He yelped again.

"Michael!" She screamed.

"Get her out of here!" Sam ordered. She could just make out his shadowy form through the smoke as he raked the rubble from the spot that they'd last seen Westen standing in. "Damn it! Jesse get her out of here!"

"Michael?" Fiona screamed again as Porter's large hands clamped around her waist. "Get you're hands off of me!" She clawed at his arms but he kept his grip and lugged her out of the newly shattered window. "Michael!"

Sam continued to dig frantically, ignoring the slicing glass and splintering wood until his fingers scraped against flesh.

"Mike!" He coughed, pulling on what he soon discovered was a leg before he was able to grab at his friends torso. "Jesus." He mumbled at the dead weight as he hoisted Westen over his shoulder, cursing as he made his way out of the half demolished house. He was glad Maddy was not here to see any of this. He heard Westen make a sound of protest when he started jogging towards the pick up truck that Jesse had acquired from somewhere. "It's going to be okay Mike."

He told him, laying him in the bed of the truck and jumping up next to him. Fiona flung her door open and scaled the side of the vehicle just before Jesse peeled off.

"Where?" He yelled frantically out the rear window. Axe looked at his friends half dead body that Fiona was currently tending too. He listened to the sound of the emergency response sirens.

"Pull over." Sam muttered.

"He's not breathing!" Fiona yelled above the noise. "Sam he's not breathing!" She flung her body forward and started mouth to mouth. He lept off the side of the truck and started to flag down the ambulance.

Jesse screeched the truck to a halt and joined him.

One of the paramedic's was already hopping onto the truck bed with Fiona. Sam ran around back to help.

"I'm a federal agent." Porter was quickly spinning the situation to the driver, he flashed his ID ridiculously quickly. "He's a protected witness we have to get him to a hospital now." He reached in the open window as the man reached towards the radio. "No. No you can't call it in."

…..

_where do u go  
>when the day is long<br>and where does your heart beat  
>and who is wrong<br>….._

"Company picked up Vaughn from local law inforcement about a half an hour ago. Apparently he's singing like a freaking canary." Jesse muttered to Sam, looking across the room to where Fiona lay in a crumpled heap half on her chair and half on Westen's bed.

Sam snorted, watching as Jesse turned on the television. MSNBC was in full scandal mode. Porter glanced at Fiona's unconscious form again before turning the volume down.

"She ever let any body look at her head?" He pointed the remote at Fi, and Sam wondered for a second if it would work. If they could just hit rewind. He wondered where he'd rewind too? Jesse raised his eyebrows and Axe finally shook his head. "When did they take him off the vent?"

Sam swallowed hard. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken out loud.

"Uhh.. this morning." He rubbed his face. "I think it was this morning."

"How long have you been sitting here?" Porter gave him a quick glance.

"Three days." Fiona's quiet voice startled them both. "It's been three days." She looked back at Michael, her voice almost accusingly.

"How bout we go get some dinner?" Porter asked softly. "Maybe even at the dinner across the street?" He watched Sam and Fi exchange long glances before she looked back at Westen.

"You should go Sam." She said softly. "You should eat."

He could have protested. He could have told her she needed to eat too, that she needed to leave her chair just as badly as he needed to leave him. He didn't he just nodded softly before slowly rising against the creaking of his knees.

Porter glanced back at Fiona, but she had already focused her attention back on Michael. Her fingernail tracing the scar. He let the door shut behind them.

Fiona looked at Michael. It was time for this to end, it was time for him to wake up. She gave his hand one final squeeze before settling her body back against the chair and lifting her foot level with the bed. With a quick bite of her lip, she kicked him as hard as she could.

...

_oh why did i go that way  
>how could i steel<br>oh how could i  
>how could i<br>how could i_

_..._

Word spread quickly that Michael Westen was conscious and communicating.

More and more people came to take his statements; CIA, FBI, Homeland security, MPD, they all tromped through the hospital room in the hours following his awakening. The doctors joined the parade. Endless questions, lights shining into every opening on his head all under Fiona's watchful gaze was starting to wear on him.

He winced at the sudden pull of medical tape against the burns on his face, his grip tightening on Fiona's loose fingers. She hissed and he swung his gaze around the heavy set nurse to meet her eyes before looking at her fingers.

He released her, tracing his thumb across the mild burns on them. She pulled them away, rubbing at her head before giving him a quick smile.

"Did you get a cat scan?" He asked, studying the edges of the stitches he'd put in last week.

"Michael I'm fine." She sighed at his still crackly raspy voice thick from the smoke inhalation.

"You had two head injuries in two days." He groaned. "Did she loose consciousness Sam?"

"I don't know Mike I was busy digging you out from under the front of the house." Axe grumbled.

"Michael I'm fine."

"Can someone check her out please?" He called to the medical staff surrounding him.

Fiona sighed as one of the nurses started towards her, lifting her self gingerly from the chair before stumbling slightly.

"See." He raised his eyebrows. "She needs to be looked at."

Sam helped the nurse coax Fiona to the wheel chair, promising her he'd stay with Michael. The whole time his eyes were on one of the doctors who seemed overly concerned with making sure his buddy's eyes followed his pen.

Once Fiona was taken care of he stood across from him, looking for what ever the doctor saw. He watched Michael's distracted halfhearted gaze as his eyes caught sight of the object again.

"Oh no." Sam sighed. The doctor looked at him seriously before going back to Michael.

"What?" Westen huffed distractedly.

"Is it as bad as I think it is?" Axe whispered. Michael blinked looking between the two.

"What?"

"He needs more tests." The doctor whispered. "I have to bring in my attending." His head shook. "An ophthalmologist, neurologist.."

Michael's face went blank. Sam looked at the ceiling with a groan.

…...

_Follow me home  
>through the, the maze and awn<br>I'll show u the road  
>that i led u the wrong way on<em>

…_..._

Fiona had the nurse stop the wheel chair in the waiting area outisde of Michael's room. She smiled at the woman dismissively, her eyes drifting towards where Jesse Porter stood with Diego and a few other suits. She watched intently as they shook hands and started away.

Diego gave her a nod as the walked past her. Jesse smiled.

"Hey there you are. I heard you went to get a scan. How-?"

"What's going on?" She shook her head, pointing towards the departing men.

"Oh. Mike's burn notice is lifted." He said as if he'd said the Marlins had won their last game. Fiona's face paled. "Diego wanted to tell him in person. Nice guy."

"His.." She stopped looking towards his room. "Just like that?"

"Yeah. I mean, they gave him a stack of papers to sign and then he's good." Jesse took a deep breath. "Just like that."

Fiona pulled her self up slowly from the chair and headed for the room, stopping apruptly at the cracked door when she heard Sam's exasperated plea.

"Mike I'm just saying maybe you should think about it for a few-."

"Just give me the paper Sam." Michael's voice was strong and resolute.

"It's been a rough couple of months." Axe emplored. "Hell a rough year. Just.. let's think about this. Talk to Fiona-."

"No." Westen snapped. "Don't say anything to Fiona."

"Mike she-."

"No. Sam." She could hear the frustration in his tone. "This has nothing to do with Fiona. This is about me. It's my life and it's my decision.. just.. give me the damn papers Sam."

Fiona backed slowly away from the door. He was going back in. He was actually-.

"I'll tell Fiona once I know more." He sighed. "If everything goes smoothly I might not have to tell her at all."

"Mike you can't just not tell her." Sam laughed.

"So I should tell her now and let her obsess about it for the next-!" He stopped. "No. It's better this way trust me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "She's.. she doesn't need to know."

Fiona smashed her eyes closed. He was doing it again. He was leaving again with no goodbye. Going back in with out a word to her. Without a second thought. She turned around quickly banging into Jesse as she did.

"Hey? Where are you going?"

"Away from Michael Westen." She huffed breathlessly before shoving him out of the way and rushing out of the hospital.

…

_how could i let her go?  
>why do i feel?<br>why do i feel?  
>why? why?<br>why did i go that way?  
>why do i need?<br>how could i let her go?  
>why do i feel?<em>

…

"What do you mean she's gone?" Michael looked between Sam and his mother.

"I'm sorry Mike I looked for hours. She's gone." Sam muttered looking away from his friend's face.

Westen shook his head, tossing back the blankets he had covering him and starting to get up.

Madelyn put her palms up, blocking his path.

"Honey you are in no condition to-."

"They could have her. She could be hurt or worse." He shook his head and started to move his mother out of the way.

"Mike!" Sam stepped to Maddy's side. "No one has her. There's no more _They. _It's over."

"Someone-!" He shook his head, pushing against Sam's arm as it clamped down on her shoulders. "She just wouldn't leave."

"Sweetheart she left me a message." His mother huffed. Michael stopped struggling and looked at her. "She called to say goodbye."

"She.." He shook his head again. Madelyn thought he looked like the neglected boy he'd once been. She swallowed hard. "She wouldn't.."

"She said it was goodbye. That it was clearly over and she wasn't going to wait around for you to leave her this time." Maddy cupped her son's cheek in his hand as he continued to stare at her, as if he couldn't quite understand what she was saying. "Honey I'm so sorry."

"It finally happened." He murmured.

"What?" Sam asked tentatively.

"I finally drove her away." He sniffed back an ironic laugh.

"Mike she's upset. A lot's happened. She just needs some time. It's Fiona." Sam told him hopefully.

Westen shook his head.

"She's gone, Sam."

...

_**Let it go **_

_**where do u go  
>when the day is long<br>and where does your heart beat  
>and who is wrong<strong>_

_**why do i feel this way**_  
><em><strong>why do i kneel<strong>_  
><em><strong>how could i let it go<strong>_  
><em><strong>why do i feel<strong>_  
><em><strong>why do i feel<strong>_  
><em><strong>why<strong>_

_**follow me home**_  
><em><strong>through the, the maze and awn<strong>_  
><em><strong>i'll show u the road<strong>_  
><em><strong>that i led u the wrong way on<strong>_

_**why did i go that way**_  
><em><strong>why do i steel<strong>_  
><em><strong>how could i let her go<strong>_  
><em><strong>why do i feel<strong>_

_**oh why did i go that way**_  
><em><strong>why do i steal<strong>_  
><em><strong>how could i let her go<strong>_  
><em><strong>why do i feel<strong>_  
><em><strong>why do i feel<strong>_  
><em><strong>why<strong>_

_**why**_  
><em><strong>why did i go that way<strong>_  
><em><strong>why do i need<strong>_  
><em><strong>how could i let her go<strong>_  
><em><strong>why do i feel<strong>_

_**oh why did i go that way**_  
><em><strong>how could i steel<strong>_  
><em><strong>oh how could i<strong>_  
><em><strong>how could i?<strong>_  
><em><strong>how could i?<strong>_

_**how could i?**_  
><em><strong>how could i...<strong>_


	10. Overweight

**…...  
><strong>

****Overweight ****

_and when you're sick you seem to think  
>you've failed eternally<br>and that the people you let in are only crumbling  
>when you're sick of thinking life in this recovery<br>when my decision paved the road  
>that lies in front of me<em>

_..._

Combat related traumatic brain injury was the official diagnosis of the doctor that Sam used his connections to get Michael into see.

_TBI_

Michael thought that giving a life altering injury a cute little nickname was ridiculous. He thought it sounded like a television station. I wonder what's on TBI tonight? Reruns again I'm sure.

Sam's specialist was at an army base in Jackson, but he'd set Westen up what seemed like a dozen therapists and doctors in the Keys near Sam's house.

That was his life now. Specialists, therapy and feeling sorry for himself. He was really good at the last one.

"Michael?" Madelyn called through the house, making her way to the deck.

"Yeah Mom?" He called softly listening to the soft sound of her heels on the tile floor.

"Jesse Porter came by again while you were with the physical therapist." She looked at him apologetically, he rolled his eyes at the large envelop she was clutching to her chest.

"Just throw it away Ma." He sighed. Turning his head back towards the ocean view.

"Michael I think you should at least take a look at them."

"Why?" He snapped, turning in the chair to face her head on. "It's not like I can work anyway."

"I think.." Madelyn moved forward with one long exaggerated step until she was by her son's side. "I think it's more of a gesture of good will. It's an apology Michael, for what you went through when you were burned."

"It's an apology I can't except." He muttered, his eyes drifting out again, "That's why I left the damn things in the hospital room right where they laid them. They can keep their apologies. Next time Jesse comes to call? Shut the door on him."

Madelyn nodded in defeat before laying the envelope on the chair next to his, gently touching his face before walking back into the house.

**...**  
><em>ever carried the weight of another?<br>for how long?  
>i walk as far as they need to recover<br>for how long?_  
>…<p>

"I'm just saying if she knew how badly he'd been injured.." Maddie began again, fiddling with the unlit cigarette in her hand.

"He didn't want her to know." Sam reminded her softly. "He was very clear about that. I tried to get him to wait to sign the consent paperwork before they started testing him. He was VERY clear he didn't want her to know their was anything seriously wrong with him."

"Well who cares what he wants or doesn't want!" She hissed. "He's a mess. And what ever reason Fiona had for leaving.. I know her... I know if she knew that he was hurt this **bad**..." She pointed the cigarette at the door to his room. "She wouldn't have left."

"Maddy there's nothing we can do about it now. I tried to find her and I can't. She doesn't want to be found." He gave her a sympathetic look before a crash from the otherside of the house caught his attention. He and Maddy both jumped to their feet.

Sam beat her to Michael's door by two long strides, knocking quickly before swinging the door open. He was on his hands and knees on the floor, a towel hanging loosely over his back.

"Mike?"

"I'm alright I just got dizzy." He said quickly, reaching to clutch the towel to himself when he realized his mother was standing behind Sam. She backed up quickly and Sam swept himself inside the room and shut the door.

"Let me help you up." Axe sighed, reaching his hand down. Michael gripped it before pulling himself to his feet. He pressed his other hand to the dresser. His eyes slowly narrowing on the one item on it. The picture. Fiona, a straw leaning lazily against her grinning lips. Sam cleared his throat, Fiona Glenanne was the elephant in the room. "Remember what they said about disorientation after showering? The change in temperature or air humidity or what ever it was they said? Next time let me know and I'll stick around."

"I'm sorry Sam." He said softly. Axe looked up at him in confusion. "I'm sorry that you have to do all this."

"Mike it's no big deal. All I did was help you up." He grinned. Michael smiled back weakly. "You okay now?" Westen nodded. Sam nodded back. "Slow down. You just need some more time."

…...

_pull my hair back, look me in the eye  
>there's a self-destructive meaning in the bleeding of a guy<br>it's the guilt of what reality has given me  
>making sense of all mistakes and my stupidity<em>

…_..._

"You look good." The man sounded surprised.

Michael blinked at Jesse Porter.

"Thank you?"

"Word around the office was that you were in bad shape."

"Well, my brain was traumatized.. so.." He rose slowly and walked towards the mantel, staring at his own face in the mirror.

"I didn't mean.." He stopped. "I'm sorry man I'm not very good at this."

Michael winced.

_It's okay Michael, we're no good at this._

"I just mean I thought you'd be worse off than this." He tilted his head to the side. "Sooo.. Your mom gave me strict instructions not to mention the papers." Michael gazed at his own reflection with a look of indifference. "But um.. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were giving up. Even if you don't ever work in the field again. It's your pension. It's the companies resources. It's an employment history."

"I don't want it."

"What about your family? Do they have endless resources?"

Michael's head bobbed down.

"I'm just saying."

"I'll think about it." Michael whispered.

"I know that Fiona-."

"I don't want to talk about Fiona." He snapped.

"Sure.. um.. Mike look I'm really sorry if she got upset. I didn't even think about it. She asked why Diego was there and I just told her. I didn't even think about it."

His blue eyes widened as Westen slowly turned from the mirror to face Porter.

"What?"

"In the hospital. When I told her that you were being reinstated." He shook his head. " I shouldn't have done that. I'm sure you caught grief for it later, her finding out like that."

"When?"

"After they came to see you. She saw them leaving. She didn't tell you?"

…...

_i want to carry a piece of who i was before  
>so when i hit the wall, i really hit the wall<br>i want to tear away the death again  
>a whiter shade of fucking meth again<br>i want to stick to clues, i want to come unglued  
>i want to shape the world to fit the way you move<br>oh, should i listen for a dress size?_

…..

He signed the papers for Sam. That's what he told himself so he could press the pen against the paper with out screaming and tossing them into the ocean. _It was for Sam_. For sticking by him. For taking care of him. He handed them to his mother with out a word.

Why would Fi think he would go back in? After everything they'd been through, how could she posabily think he'd want that life back?

It was almost ironic. They want him back. He says no because he wants the girl. Then she leaves. Then it turns out even if he _did_ want to go back he'd never pass the medical exam.

_The eye exam_. Michael sighed pushing up from the table and making his way across the room where Sam and his girlfriend were making dinner. He smiled at Veronica, sticking his hand out towards the spoon she was using to stir the sauce. She gave it up with a smile.

"Apparently I'm going to start getting a pension with in a few weeks." He told Sam softly. "So I'll be able to help out a little more."

"Mike I mooched off of you and your family for three years." Sam scoffed. "We can handle a few months. Save it. You're going to need it when you start looking for Fiona."

Michael stopped stirring and looked at his buddy.

"I had a lead but it turned out to be a dead end. Maybe you can make something out of it." Sam pointed his spatula at his blank look. "I bet your new resources are going to come in handy."

"She left Sam." Michael murmured. "What am I supposed to do track her down and drag her back here against her will?"

"Or die trying, Brother."

**_i owned up, i've grown up, do you remember me?  
>i showed up and so what if i'm the used to be<br>i'm here to tell you that i'm sorry i was sorry  
>but i'm happy that you're happy<br>this is no longer about me_**

Michael slammed the computer screen shut when the timer beside him started to sound. It was hard enough focusing on the damn thing with his freaking tunnel vision, but it was more frustrating repeatedly coming up empty before his 'computer time' was finished.

His eyes were the most frustrating part of this recovery. It was also the most annoying therapy. All the others he could deal with. Physical was a piece of cake, he had prided himself in his physical abilities for years. Occupational took focus, dedication, he had those. The speech had been frustrating at first, but before he knew it, his Farsi accent was back to perfection and he could do the woman's toungue twisters with elegant flare.

_Vision Restoration Therapy_ however was a mixture of sitting around letting them shoot lazers into his sore light sensitive baby blues and visual resting. 10 minutes on the computer at a time.

"Mike?"

"I'm out here Sam." He called softly from the balcony. Axe moved that way, stopping to lean against the door frame. Michael sat at the end of the deck chair, his eyes far off onto the ocean, the disgaurded lap top next to him on the floor.

"You know. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have been able to see Ireland from here before your eye sight went bad." He whispered, like he was breaking bad news. His lips twitched when he saw Michael's break into a grin.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do with out her." He sighed.

"I'm sorry? Who are you again?" Sam shook his head, Michael grunted, dropping against the back of the chair. "Because I thought you were Michael Westen." He watched him blink at the clouds, his hands folding neatly behind his head. Michael Westen would not sit here moaning." Sam walked across the deck and leaned against the railing, lifting his eyebrows at his buddy's face. "Michael Westen would shake it off, grab yogurt and go get his girl."

He watched his friend grimace, rubbing his hands over his face.

"I don't even know where she is. I don't even know if I'm still that guy, Sam." He moaned into his palms.

He listened to the smack of something hitting the table beside him. A manila FBI folder marked in red starred back at him. **Glenanne, Fiona K**. He glanced up at Sam who gave him a serious look before setting a blue berry yogurt on top of it.

"You're still that guy." He called as he walked slowly away. "And guess who popped up on the FBI radar on a flight back to Dublin four months ago?"

_**Overweight**_

_ever carried the weight of another?  
>for how long?<br>i walk as far as they need to recover  
>for how long? (ha!)<em>

i want to carry a piece of who i was before  
>so when i hit the wall, i really hit the wall<br>i want to tear away the death again  
>a whiter shade of fucking meth again<br>i want to stick to clues, i want to come unglued  
>i want to shape the world to fit the way you move<br>oh, should i listen for a dress size?

i owned up, i've grown up, do you remember me?  
>i showed up and so what if i'm the used to be<br>i'm here to tell you that i'm sorry i was sorry  
>but i'm happy that you're happy<br>this is no longer about me

trade rules, switch sides for your beautiful eyes  
>let him be you through your beautiful cries<br>let him hold you up so you can touch affordable skies  
>live your life just like a dream<br>without the pain of goodbyes  
>goodbye!<p>

ever carried the weight of another?  
>for how long?<br>i walk as far as they need to recover  
>for how long?<p>

i been a drunk disrespectful little street punk  
>unlock the back of my trunk<br>you see, you take this bat  
>and bash my head into the street again<br>no-ones around so i keep beating it

pull my hair back, look me in the eye  
>there's a self-destructive meaning in the bleeding of a guy<br>it's the guilt of what reality has given me  
>making sense of all mistakes and my stupidity<p>

_and when you're sick you seem to think  
>you've failed eternally<em>**_  
>and that the people you let in are only crumbling<br>when you're sick of thinking life in this recovery  
>when my decision paved the road<br>that lies in front of me_**

so to my friends that even call but i don't call back  
>i want you deep inside my heart upon a hill<br>it seems to hide sometimes and run away and wonder  
>i'm really sick of saying sorry but i will<p>

ever carried the weight of another?  
>for how long?<br>i walk as far as they need to recover  
>for how long?<p>

but are we scared to take the ride?  
>or dare to look inside?<br>i'm floating far away (far away)  
>i'm floating far away (leaving home)<br>i'm floating far away (so far away)  
>i'm floating far away<p>

i want to learn to walk with others as an equal  
>i want to treat the ones who love me with respect<br>i want to tell the world i'll give them all a piggyback  
>and try to take away my negative effect<br>i want to kiss the girl, i know i'll never lie again  
>i want to call my dad and tell him that i care<br>i want to let my brother know  
>he saved my life a thousand times<br>throughout the years he's been my friend  
>who's always there<p>

ever carried the weight of another?  
>for how long?<p> 


	11. It's just me

**A/N: This is the hidden track on Foiled. It's probably my favorite song on the album, but it's hidden away so I felt this chapter needed to be different then the rest. It's in second person, which I suck at, but I'm trying to 'grow' as a writer. It's a journal of sorts. Maybe a voice over? Who knows. Anyway it's different. **

_It's just me_

_you see but lately i've been on my own.  
>yeah one, but one by choice.<br>you see, thats a first for me,  
>there's only me, yeah theres only me,<br>and now i realize for once,  
>it's just me.<br>it's just me._

I have spent the last two hours scouring over every last piece of information. Every grainy security tape from every old stomping ground, yours and ours. In Dublin and Belfast for both night and day.

(Well in ten minute increments any way.)

I have exhausted every last one of my newly reacquired resources. I have exhausted all of Sam's buddies. I called your brother. He hung up on me. When I called back he told me he'd kill me if he ever saw me again. I believe him. Hell Fi, I understand.

Therapy is daunting. Tedious now. Nearly a waste of time. It keeps me from my goal.

Finding you is my goal.

You're my goal.

You should have been my goal all along, Fiona. I'm sorry.

**_it's just me,  
>and i'll find a way to make it,<br>there's noone left to stop me.  
>here i go.<br>can we take it from the top?  
><em>**

Sam and I took a job today. Nothing big, but it went well. Too well even. I think that Sam may have dumbed the whole thing down for me. To ease me back in.

It was nice. There was no Carla, or Victor or Vaughn or Strickler. No one to interrupt, or call me away. I think I should have been bored, but I wasn't.

It was nice. You would have been bored.

**_so why so long?  
>so sad, i wanna be strong.<br>don't try to take this from me.  
>i'm already spent living half my life undone<br>so why so long?  
>so sad, i wanna be strong.<br>don't try to take this from me.  
>i've already spent my life living half undone<em>**

I woke up about an hour ago. Same dream, the one where you're drowning and I can't get to you. I just watch you float there face down in the water.

For the last hour I've been trying to figure it out. Like it's a puzzle, clue to where you are or how to reach you.

Then at some point I realized it was just a damn dream. I fell apart the last time you left Fiona. I don't think I ever told you that. Not that I needed too. You knew. You always know.

Life without work, without the burn notice to fight, or missions to go on.. it's slow and silent and I spend a lot of time thinking. I got angry at my mom yesterday. Really angry at her for things that happened twenty years ago.

I apologized, and I'm pretty sure she wrote it off as some delayed emotional response from my head injury.

It wasn't. It was the stuff I've spent the last two decades running from showing up and slapping me in the face.

I'm sorry Fiona. I'm really sorry.

You can come home now, I get it.

**_i'm gonna feel a peace in me,  
>i'm gonna feel at home.<br>i'm gonna make this cloud above me disappear, be gone.  
>i wanna feel a punch inside, my heart beat on the floor.<br>i don't wanna hurt no more.  
><em>**

My mom pronounced me better today. I'm not sure why. What made her come to that decision while I sat at the table going over something Sam had for me to do. A little job. One I could do with my eyes closed.

(That's a good thing, since the days of impeccable vision are gone.)

Sam readily agreed, before dropping a plane ticket onto the table in front of me.

_Bring her home Michael._

Was all my mother said after that. Sam just went back to work.

**_It's just me_**

_you see but lately i've been on my own.  
>yeah one, but one by choice.<br>you see, thats a first for me,  
>there's only me, yeah theres only me,<br>and now i realize for once,  
>it's just me.<br>it's just me._

_it's just me,  
>and i'll find a way to make it,<br>there's noone left to stop me.  
>here i go.<br>can we take it from the top?  
><em>

_so why so long?  
>so sad, i wanna be strong.<br>don't try to take this from me.  
>i'm already spent living half my life undone<br>so why so long?  
>so sad, i wanna be strong.<br>don't try to take this from me.  
>i've already spent my life living half undone.<em>

i've been talking to my aunts and uncles, mom and dad again.  
>i've been finding out that i have what this world calls friends.<br>i've tried to push them all away,  
>they push me back and wanna stay<br>and that's one good thing i have.

i'm gonna feel a peace in me,  
>i'm gonna feel at home.<br>i'm gonna make this cloud above me disappear, be gone.  
>i wanna feel a punch inside, my heart beat on the floor.<br>i don't wanna hurt no more.

yeah it's just me.  
>it's just me<br>and i'll find a way to make it.  
>there's noone left to stop me.<br>here i go, can we take it from the top?

so why so long?  
>so sad, i wanna be strong.<br>don't try to take her from me.  
>i've already spent my life living half undone.<p>

so why so long?  
>so sad, i wanna be strong.<br>don't try to take her from me.  
>i've already spent my life living half undone.<p>

i used to be the one who won before.  
>i used to smile but dont no more.<br>i'm living just to watch it all go by.


	12. what if we could?

**A/N: this is my favorite song for them, because I think it's what Fiona did for him when she came to that hotel room four seasons ago. :)**

**Short Chapter, but I hate keeping them apart. So, I want to get back to Fiona's livingroom.. that's where the good stuff is.**

**What if we could?**

**...**

**_**what if we could,  
>put our lives on<br>hold and meet some  
>where inside of the world?<br>i would meet you  
>would you meet me?<strong>_**

...

A year had passed since Fiona had left the hospital. A year that had been the longest year of Michael Westen's life, but it had passed oddly quickly as well. He shook his head at the contradiction before collecting his baggage and hurrying to the hotel.

He wasn't 100%, but he'd come along way by the time he stepped off the plane in Dublin, Ireland, but he was better. _Stronger_.

He spent the next few months patrolling the country. Checking and double checking places Fiona might have gone. He'd staked out her mothers house and gotten nothing. He was about to give up on Ireland all together, but Sam couldn't find any proof of her ever leaving the country and neither could he.

He'd gone back to Dublin, followed two of her brothers as they went about their business before slowly approaching Sophi, Semus's oldest daughter, while she worked at the front desk of a local hotel.

Her eyes widened when she saw him. Her hand reaching under her desk for what Michael thought for an insane second was a gun. She retrieved her cell phone instead.

"Sophi please!" He hissed in Michael McBride's voice. "I just need to know where she is."

"Sean told me to call him if you came here."

"Sophi.. I understand what Sean said and why he said it, but I just need-."

"She went to Belfast." The young woman said quickly. "To run weapons with some old IRA friends. That's all I know. I don't know if she's still there are not and I don't think she's at Grams but she went back to Belfast."

"Sophi.." Michael sighed in relief. "Sophi thank you. Does she have a phone numb-?"

"Listen Michael I know you really love her but you have to understand about my Uncle Sean." She shook her head. "She went to Belfast. I can't give you anything else but that."

"Thank you." He smiled at her. "And if you talk to her.." He grabbed a slip of paper and quickly wrote his number. "Tell her I'm here. Tell her I'm looking for her."

She nodded, taking the note and putting it in her handbag. Michael made his way back out of the hotel, wincing at the bright sun of the day.

He adjusted his glasses. They were prescription now, the kind that transitioned in shade depending on the light. Veronica had said they made him look dignified. Sam had laughed and said they made him look British.

He jumped on the next train to Belfast and checked back into his usual hotel. The one just around the corner from a pub the two of them had spent a lot of time in.

At night he'd walk down and take up residence in the back booth with a view of the door and wait. If she was here working on the black market she'd have to come through here.

**...**

**i****_'m glad to say that we've met  
>but i'm sad to say that the circumstances weren't<br>on our side  
>so go on<br>go on be your own  
>go on be your own star<em>**

...

"You're sure?" He whispered into the phone before rolling his eyes at the slightly hurt reply. "No Sam I'm not implying that you don't know how to do a simple job. I'm just saying it's Fiona. She's not going to be easy to-." He stopped huffing out a sigh. "No you're right, we know all of her tricks."

He looked around the bar, remembering. It was only ten years ago but it felt like fifty. He looked over at the small clearing next to the dart board where he'd let her beat him, just so he could see her face light up with the smug satisfaction.

"It's okay Sam. I'll keep looking here for a few more days. Then I'll move on."

He watched his memory of Fiona dance seductively in drunk relaxation in front of the jukebox. He thought of the picture he currently had slipped inside his coat pocket. He couldn't be sure, but it may have been taken on the patio out back.

He couldn't be sure though. There had been a lot of Irish Pubs back in those days.

A dark red haired woman tossed her hand up in the air when she saw him sitting there. He recognized her. The first real lead he'd had of Fiona in over a year.

Her name was Margaret O'Tool and she was former IRA. Not really one in Fiona's inner circle, but someone who may have heard something of her. He stood quickly to his feet and hurried over with a large smile.

Until he heard what she had to say.

...

**_what if we could?  
>where would we go?<br>if it felt right,  
>would you want me to know?<br>i would meet you,  
>would you meet me?<br>_****...**

She'd gotten married.

The very thought of it made him sick. He rolled onto his side and away from the window, pulling the blankets up around his chest. She'd only been gone a year. How could she have met someone and fallen in love already?

Campbell flashed into his head for a moment and he actually moaned.

How could she be sure? Already. It had only been a year. Unless.. he blinked in sudden realization, Unless she'd been dating someone before she came back. Unless she'd left behind a boyfriend when Sam had called her to Miami.

The thought of that made him sick.

She was married.

He contemplated going home, catching the next flight back to Florida and returning to Sam and his mom and forgetting this whole idea of finding Fiona.

He had to set things right though. He had to tell her. He had to see her. It was settled.

In the morning he'd head for Kilkenny.

...

_What if we could?_

_what if we could  
>put our lives on<br>hold and meet some  
>where inside of the world<br>i would meet you  
>would you meet me?<em>

2, 3, 4...

on a park bench  
>on a skyscrape<br>on a mountain  
>oh yeah, whatever it takes<br>i would meet you  
>would you meet me?<p>

i'm glad to say that we've met  
>but i'm sad to say that the circumstances weren't<br>on our side

so go on  
>go on be your own<br>go on be your own star

what if we could?  
>where would we go?<br>if it felt right  
>would you want me to know<br>i would meet you  
>would you meet me<p>

it's like a last chance  
>for a first dance<br>you're a sunrise  
>can't somehow exist<br>i would meet you  
>would you meet me<p>

i'm glad to say that we've met  
>but i'm sad to say that the circumstances weren't<br>on our side

so go on  
>go on be your own<br>go on be your own star

a simple star in my eyes  
>in my eyes<p>

look in my eyes  
>just look in my eyes<br>my eyes  
>my eyes!<p>

what if we could  
>put our lives on<br>hold and meet some  
>where inside of the world<br>i would meet you  
>would you meet me?<p>

on a park bench  
>on a skyscrape<br>on a mountain  
>oh yeah, whatever it takes<br>i would meet you  
>would you meet me?<p>

god i would  
>god i would<br>i would meet you  
>would you meet me<p>

i would meet you  
>i would meet you<br>i would meet you


	13. She's my ride home

**_She's my ride home._**

**_Kilkenny Ireland  
><em>****_2011  
><em>****_(after chapter one)_**

"_I miss you." His voice sounded far more desperate than he'd have liked. "I miss you Fiona."_

_Her mouth twitched as more tears fell. _

"_I miss you too, Michael." She took a deep breath and set her shoulders. "Did you come here to tell me you missed me?"_

"_No." He stood up slowly, before hesitantly putting his hands on her shoulders. "I came to ask you to come home."_

_..._

**we talked  
>together sharpening the knife<br>like killing partners for a life  
>hey we can hide the bodies on the ride home<br>...**

"Just like that then?" She smiled that sickeningly sweet smile that made his jaw clench anticipating her fist.

"Fi." He sounded tired. Hell, he was tired. He'd just spent months searching every inch of this hill ridden country looking for her. "I've been here four months. I've crisscrossed this damn country five times." He held up five fingers, as if to prove to her he wasn't exaggerating. "Please Fiona just hear me out."

She stilled, something in his voice stopped her. That and the weary look in his eyes. He looked down at her, his cupped hands moving ever so slightly against her shoulders. She waited, he was nervous. That wasn't something a girl saw everyday.

"Fi I-."

Then her phone rang.

"I -." She looked at it on her coffee table.

"Don't answer it." He shook his head, her face strained. "Fiona don't-."

"I'm kind of in the middle of something Michael!" She moaned, pulling away. He struggled to keep hold of a wrist as she grasped the phone.

"The gun deal can wait." He snorted.

"It's not a gun-." She pressed harder on her phone than she needed too. "Fiona McBride."

His lips twitched up at the name. Part of him had broken when he'd thought she was married. It was fixed when he realized she'd married herself to his cover id.

"No. No stay where you are I'll come to you."

"That can't be good." He sighed as she dropped the phone and hurried to the chest near the back door and produced two rifles. "That can't be good!" He said a little louder.

"Come on." Fiona coaxed. "I'll explain on the way."

"No Fiona-." He called, taking the gun awkwardly, but she was already out the door and half way in her car. "Fi!"

He slid into the passenger side and looked at her mournfully.

"I'm helping a local shopkeeper with a little former employee problem she's having. The guys bad news Michael. It's Ewen Broksfil. Do you remember him from Belfast?" He kept staring at her. "Well it doesn't matter. Typical IRA idiot. She found out he was-."

"Fi I have to tell you something." He interrupted urgently.

"I know.. I know... After. Long story short he's breaking the windows of her damn shop in and she's afraid he'll torch the place." Fiona took a corner, Michael grunted, grabbing at the handle as she squealed to a stop in front of the store surrounded by three Irish thugs. "Cover me."

She smiled, opening the door. Michael grabbed her and yanked her back into the car.

"I can't." He shook his head.

"Michael, I can explain later-!" She gestured to the shop. "I promise it's-." She started from the car again and he tugged her back roughly grabbing her face in his hands.

"Fiona, I can't see." He told her quickly, shaking his head. Her eyes widened. "Not well enough to shoot this." He nodded at the rifle. "Maybe, with my glasses on but.. not well enough to cover you."

Her lips remained parted. She looked at him like he'd grown another head. He dared to glance away.

"You scared them off." He told her softly.

"What?" She blinked. He pointed at the store front.

"They're gone."

..

**_I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)  
>who cares if no one else believes<br>so i, set fire to everyone around  
>but i told you<br>i told you  
>i told you<em>**

**_..._**

He listened to Fiona comfort her client as he swept up the glass in the front of the shop. He smiled to himself when she told her she should leave town for a while. He grimaced when Fiona told the woman they'd take care of Broksfil.

Alice, the shop keeper, left quietly out the back door a few minutes later. He could hear her come closer, creeping slowly up on him with mild interest.

"Don't get any wild idea's, believe me you could take me down." He chuckled to himself. "Easily."

"Michael." He turned to face her, watching her head shake slowly back and forth. "What happened to you?"

"Brain Injury." He shrugged, looking back at the broom as it moved over the glass and wood. "Best they can tell I bruised my frontal lobe. Language, short term memory, reflexes.. my ocular nerves were.. damaged. I lost most of my peripheral vision in both eyes."

"Lost.." Her voice trailed off and he looked back at her dazed face. "So you can't work.."

"I didn't want to work. I'm done. I've been done.."

"What did they do to you?" She exhaled slowly. "What happened to you?"

"You know what happened better than I do." He shrugged.

"How the hell would I know?" She wrinkled her nose up in confusion.

"You were there." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was tense, irritated. He leaned the broom against the wall and crossed his arms over her chest.

"It's not like you waited around to make sure I was okay or anything, but you witnessed a damn house blow up in my face." He said calmly.

Her head started shaking again.

"No." She whispered accusingly. "You were fine. They told me you were fine. Jesse said you were back in. I heard you and Sam talking about it. You said it was none of my concern. You were-. All you cared about was lifting the burn notice..."

She licked her lips and Michael watched the tears well up in her eyes. His own irritation faded quickly as his arms uncrossed and he reached out for her. She flinched out of his grasp.

"They told me. That nurse told me.. that you were fine." She told him indignantly, he reached for her again, managing to grasp her upper arm and pull her around to face him. He drilled his blue eyes into hers. "I heard you and Sam."

"Then you'll have to ask Sam." He told her quietly. "Because I don't remember." Her eyes widened again. "I remember flashes, my mom's house.. you were hurt.. there was an explosion.. you were there when I woke up. Then you were gone and Sam took me to the Keys. That's all I remember."

Her lower lip quivered, but he kept his gaze tight in hers.

"Michael.." She whispered painfully.

"Later." He soothed. "I think I know how to solve your little Broksfil problem."

**_i'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)  
>who cares if no one else believes<br>so i, set fire to everyone around  
>but i told you<br>i told you  
>i told you <em>**

Ewen Broksfil was a distant memory about an hour later. Apparently when a former IRA bomb specialist and her thought dead 'ruthless killer' of a 'husband' show up at your door and politely explain that your former boss is well connected with Ireland's terrorist underground, your work disputes seem trite.

Fiona looked warily at Michael. He raised his eyebrows at her from his spot on the couch.

"So." He breathed at her, pushing his newly retrieved glasses up the bridge of his nose. He didn't have anything else, so he smiled at her instead.

"You've been here four months?" She asked softly.

"In Ireland?" He whispered before nodding.

"You found me." She swallowed.

"Yeah. By accident. Sophi said you were gun running in Belfast so I hid out at Bar Seven and waited for you."

"Gun running in Belfast that was.. a year ago." She licked her lips.

"You might want to check in with the family more often." He teased. "I call my mother at least once a week."

She grinned at him before her face quickly went slack again.

"She must hate me." Fiona murmered.

"Fi." Michael shook his head, slowly slipping from the couch and making his way over to the chair she sat in and knelt at her lap. "No one hates you. Every one loves you."

"I just left you. In a hospital. With brain damage." She huffed. "Who does that?"

He smiled when her hand shot out mid gesture.

"I probably deserved it."

"Michael!" She snorted, stilling when his hand came up and cupped her face.

"I missed you." He repeated softly. Fiona leaned into his palm, sniffing back tears. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

She couldn't answer, she could only push her face towards his and claim his lips. His eyes shut as his other hand grasped the other side of her face pulling her off of the chair and into his chest. His body shook with a relieved sigh and she whimpered, squirming to get her body closer to his.

She was cool water on sticky skin; a soft place to land after a hard day. She was fresh air after being stuck in a tomb. She was everything good and comforting and real to him and he was never going to let her go again.

**…_  
>now here we are<br>we're licking skin to wipe us clean  
>strike a match, pour gasoline<br>ditch the scene and watch this city burn  
>….<em>**

He gasped for breath as she collapsed against his chest, his fingers running up and down her back in soothing calming strokes.

"You never answered me." He puffed, still struggling for oxygen.

"When?" She pressed her ear against his heart and listened to it pound against his ribs.

"When I asked you to come home with me." He reminded.

"You didn't ask." She dug her chin into his pecks when she turned her head to face him. "You just told me you'd come to ask."

"I did didn't I?" He smiled. She raised and eyebrow and nodded awkwardly against him. He nodded back before quickly rolling her onto her back and pinning her beneath him. "Fiona Gle-. I'm sorry.. McBride..." She rolled her eyes at him as he slipped back into his accent. "Come home with me. Please?"

"And if I say no?" She asked, jetting her chin out defiantly.

"Then I guess I'll have to stay here with you." He answered, lowing his mouth to hers. She pressed into the kiss, with a soft moan as her eyes slipped shut. "Because I'm not letting you out of my sight." He kissed her jaw and the soft spot behind her ear. "And I have horrible eyesight. So I'm going to have to keep you very.." He kissed her lips before moving to her neck. "Very close."

_..__  
><em>**_we drive  
>to leave the past and clear the mind<br>to watch the sunset set its time  
>i swear you'll find<br>i'm your ride home..  
>now close your eyes<br>its' getting dark and the highways clear  
>no sign of life from front to rear<br>its just you my dear  
>on the ride home<br>cause we're going home  
>…<em>**

She'd spent about an hour on the phone with Sam, sitting cross-legged on the stone retaining wall behind her house. That's where Michael found her and dropped a blanket over her shoulders.

"I'm guessing my story checked out?" He asked her softly, watching her quickly sniff and bat the tears from her eyes with the butt of her hand.

"Why didn't you want to tell me Michael?"

"What?" He asked softly.

"About what the doctor saw. About the tests they wanted to run?" She looked up at him. "Why would you want to hide that from me?"

"I don't remember." He said easily, she made a face. "I don't Fiona, I'm sorry. I don't remember much from that whole time. Flashes, moments.. but I don't really remember much between meeting Vaughn and Sam taking me to the Keys." He sighed watching her snuggle into the blanket before coming around behind her and pulling her into his arms. "From what I understand I wasn't at my best."

She scoffed like that was a major understatement and he nudged her head with his chin.

"You didn't think I could handle it?" She pressed her lips together. "Did you think I'd leave you?"

"I don't know Fi. I really don't." He swallowed. "My best guess is that I didn't' want it to be real, and if you knew it would be real."

"_It was real.._"

"Yes it was." He told her quickly, taking a deep breath.

"It was hard?" He nodded into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry Michael."

"Me too." He murmured against her ear.

She craned her neck to face him.

"For what?"

"For putting the job first. For making you feel like I didn't need you." He swallowed, readjusting his grip on her. "Didn't want you." They sat there in silence for a while until Michael sat up a little straighter, Fiona turned to face him. "You have no idea how much I need you." He shook his head. "No idea."

Her lips spread into a sad smile.

"Let's go home." She whispered. "Take me home."

**_...  
>She's my ride home<em>**

_we talked  
>together sharpening the knife<br>like killing partners for a life  
>hey we can hide the bodies on the ride home<em>

now here we are  
>we're licking skin to wipe us clean<br>strike a match, pour gasoline  
>ditch the scene and watch this city burn<br>asleep, my life will be a pillow steering wheel turn

i'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)  
>who cares if no one else believes<br>so i, set fire to everyone around  
>but i told you<br>i told you  
>i told you<p>

so ha ha ha ha  
>ha ha ha ha<br>yeah we walk

we drive  
>to leave the past and clear the mind<br>to watch the sunset set its time  
>i swear you'll find<br>i'm your ride home  
>now close your eyes<br>its' getting dark and the highways clear  
>no sign of life from front to rear<br>its just you my dear  
>on the ride home<br>cause we're going home

i'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)  
>who cares if no one else believes<br>so i, set fire to everyone around  
>but i told you<br>i told you  
>i told you<p>

so ha ha ha ha  
>ha ha ha ha<br>yeah we walk

we talked  
>together sharpening a knife<br>like killing partner for a life  
>hey we can hide the bodies on the ride home<br>cause we're going home

i'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)  
>who cares if no one else believes<br>so i, set fire to everyone around  
>but i told you<br>i told you  
>i told you<p>

so ha ha ha ha (we walk)  
>ha ha ha ha (oh yeah we walk)<br>ha ha ha ha (we walk)  
>ha ha ha ha<br>yeah we walk  
>yeah we walk<p> 


	14. 18th floor balcony

**A/N Thanks for your patients with this story. We had a big family disaster half way through. Lol. All is approaching normal now.. or normal for us anyway. :) **

**My writing time has been greatly effected though. **

**Still thinking my way through a sequel to ****_Duty, _****and ****_Choices _****is about ready to kick into drive. Stand by. :) **

**...**

**18****th**** floor Balcony**

_i close my eyes and i smile  
>knowing that everything is alright<br>to the core  
>close that door<br>is this happening? _

Michael slipped from the bedroom and made his way to the balcony. He'd spent so much time out there while he was recovering it seemed to draw him out again. He blinked out at the crystal clear water and smiled.

"What happened? Change your mind?" Sam's voice made him jump. He turned his head quickly, Axe grinned up at him. "Or did you say something stupid and she caught the first plane back to Ireland?"

"Jet Lag. She's crashed out." Michael sighed happily, settling down in the chair next to him. "I'd stand in front of the plane Sam I'm not letting her out of my sight."

"That's saying something with your crappy eyes." The other man mumbled, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. "Dr. Natan called last week. You missed your appointment. I told him you were out of the country unexpectedly and you'd make a new one as soon as you got back."

"Yeah." Michael sighed.

"Jenny's been itching to get her hands on you."

"Ug." He rubbed at his head. "I could live without Jenny."

"You're limping again when you get tired. You should call her." Sam pointed at him lazily as he scolded. Michael blinked at his friend. "If you keep dragging that left foot your going to start tripping again." Michael's lips twitched. "I'm just saying-.  
>What?"<p>

"You're a good friend." He whispered softly. "I wouldn't have made it through this without you."

"Mike you would ha-."

"No, I wouldn't have." Westen shook his head. "Thanks Sam."

"No problem Buddy." Axe blinked before looking back out at the water and clearing the emotion from his throat. "You're Welcome."

_I'm unaware  
>that you opened the blinds and let the city in<br>god, you held my hand  
>as we stand<br>taking in everything._

Michael stirred, his hand reaching across the bed as his fingers curled against the empty sheets.

"Fi?" It came out a breathy whisper but he heard her move from somewhere in the room. The bed dipped as she sat beside him reaching out his glasses. He took them with a smirk and looked up at her. "Morning."

"Afternoon." She countered with a smug grin. He twisted to look at the clock grunting in surprise.

"You should have woken me." He rubbed his face before readjusting his glasses.

"You know I think Sam's right." She told him, her voice full of surprise. "You do look British." Michael snorted. "Get dressed."

"Where we going?"

"Apparently there is a physical therapist who wants to teach me how to kick your ass with out throwing a punch."_  
><em>

_we talked about mom's and dad's  
>about family's pasts<br>getting to know where we came from  
>our hearts were on display<br>for all to see _

Michael leaned his head against the side of the sliding glass balcony door and sighed. Fiona's eyes blinked in the darkness. The job they'd done for Jesse had taken a toll on him and Maddy both. It wasn't the first time that she had thought about his childhood.

It was the first time she'd actually had a glimpse though. It rattled her to think of Madelyn Westen that way, weak and helpless. Not words she had ever connected to the outspoken, demanding woman.

Michael had been through hell today, or maybe back through hell. He'd joked on the way home that at least he knew that Sam and Jesse weren't sending him on safe, pretend missions anymore. Fiona hadn't laughed. It was all still a little too much for her, thinking about how fragile he must have been if Sam thought that he was now recovered enough.

She turned towards the balcony and looked at his shadowy form.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I was just thinking about-." His voice trailed off. She watched him take a deep breath. "Things."

"Do you want to talk about it?" She chanced. He turned to look at her and she moved her legs, making obvious space on the bed for him. He let the left side of his mouth rise before sitting next to her hand sweeping her hair back.

"No." He shook his head slowly. "I want to talk about us." She waited, keeping her features flat except for the slow rise of one eyebrow. "Fiona I think it's time for us to look for a place of our own."

Her lips parted slowly.

"Maybe something in Miami." He shrugged. "Or out here by Sam. Where ever you want."

"Michael-?"

"It's time." He took a deep breath. "To move forward, to think about the future."

"Future?"

"Our future." He held her eyes, pressing his lips together and swallowing hard.

She nodded slowly pushing up from the bed and meeting his lips.

_is this happening?  
><em>_my breathe is on your hair  
>i'm unaware<br>that you opened the blinds and let the city in  
>god, you held my hand<br>as we stand  
>taking in everything.<br>_

"So." The agent looked at Fiona with an expectant grin. "It's perfect right?"

"It's nice." She nodded, glancing back to where Michael stared out at the ocean.

"I should let you two talk about it." She followed her client's gaze. She nodded again as her heals clicked against the tile floor.

"What do you think? It's got great security. Great views. It's close to Sam. High enough up that you'd have to be spider man to get in from the East." She asked him softly slipping her arms around him and running her thumbs over his solar plexus.

"I think it's only important what you think." He snickered, Fi rolled her eyes as he turned to face her.

"Fine. I think it's perfect and I love it." She decided.

"Then it's home." He sighed.

"Welcome home then Michael." She teased, he shot her a grin before taking a deep breath and turning back to the view.

"It's good to be home."

…..

18th floor balcony

_i close my eyes and i smile  
>knowing that everything is alright<br>to the core  
>close that door<br>is this happening?  
>my breathe is on your hair<br>i'm unaware  
>that you opened the blinds and let the city in<br>god, you held my hand  
>as we stand<br>taking in everything._

and i knew it from the start  
>so my arms are open wide<br>your head is on my stomach  
>and we're trying so hard not to fall asleep<p>

but here we are  
>on this 18th floor balcony...<br>we're both flying away.

we talked about mom's and dad's  
>about family's pasts<br>getting to know where we came from  
>our hearts were on display<br>for all to see  
>i can't believe this is happening.<br>i raised my hand as if to show you i was yours  
>that i was so yours for the taking<br>i'm still so your for the taking  
>thats when i felt the wind pick up<br>i grabbed the rail while choking up  
>these words to say and then you kissed me...<br>i knew from the start  
>so my arms are open wide<br>and your head is on my stomach  
>and we're trying so hard not to fall asleep<p>

but here we are  
>on this 18th floor balcony...<p>

i knew from the start  
>so my arms are open wide<br>your head is on my stomach  
>and we're trying so hard not to fall asleep<p>

here we are  
>on this 18th floor balcony...<br>we're both flying away.

and i'll try to sleep  
>to keep you in my dreams<br>so i can bring you home with me  
>and i'll try to sleep<br>and you keeping you in my...dreams

i knew it from the start  
>my arms are open wide<br>your head is on my stomach  
>we're not going to sleep<br>but here we are  
>on this 18th floor balcony...we're both..<br>flying away


End file.
